Worth The Risk
by MildlyInsane
Summary: After Rick and Daryl leave Paul "Jesus" Monroe along the side of the road, Jesus encounters a vengeful group he wronged in the past. As Jesus struggles to escape a group who outnumber him, Rick and Daryl contemplate whether to help. All the while, Rick and Daryl wonder whether Jesus is worthy of their trust, as Jesus contemplates the same about them. Set during 6x10, The Next World
1. The Past Comes Back

**Worth the Risk**

 **SUMMARY: _After Rick and Daryl leave Paul "Jesus" Monroe along the side of the road, Jesus encounters a group who he has wronged in the past, looking for revenge. Jesus has to struggle to escape the vengeance of a group who outnumber him, as Rick and Daryl contemplate whether or not help him. All the while, Rick and Daryl wonder whether Jesus is worthy of their trust, as Jesus contemplates the same about them. Set during episode 6x10 - The Next World._**

 ****In this story, I'm attempting to make Paul Monroe (Jesus) a little more believable in his abilities. That means no untying bound hands and ankles and climbing on top of a massive truck all within five seconds... But he is still a strong, quick, capable person - just not unbelievably so. Even our precious, lovely Jesus is only human, and I think he's more interesting if he has realistic human limitations.**

 **(I guess maybe his name is Paul "Rovia" on the show? But it's going to be Monroe here, because that's his name... Why change it? - I'll also be referring to him by both Paul and Jesus, depending on what comes naturally. Probably more often Jesus though. That's what I always call him when I talk about him to anyone in real life.)**

 **NOTE: This story has nothing to do with Negan or the Saviors, though they may or may not be mentioned or vaguely alluded to, as they do exist in this story still - they just aren't entirely relevant to the plot and won't appear as characters here. The main characters in this story are Jesus, Rick, Daryl, and the "bad guys" who are entirely my own creation and are not related to any groups from the show or books. And my story begins within episode 6x10, after Rick and Daryl catch up with Jesus and leave him tied up along the road. In my version, however, everything changes there. Jesus doesn't manage to get himself untied or climb on top of the truck. There's not enough time for that.**

 **ANOTHER NOTE: As I begin writing this story, I will have only seen Jesus's first episode on the show, though I have read every comic issue published up until this point. My story is mostly based off the interactions between Jesus and Rick/Daryl seen in episode 6x10 with small details from what I know about Jesus from the comics. If the show ends up different from the comics and you read this thinking, "What the hell? Jesus is weird in this story," it's because I've only seen him in about four scenes on the show so far. I will still, however, steer clear of spoilers to the best of my ability. I'll keep things vague in some circumstances in case I publish this before certain things are revealed in the show.**

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 **Chapter 1**

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Jesus couldn't help but to practically pout as he looked over at the back of the white truck making its way down the road and away from him. He'd done his best to retrieve it from the two strangers, who had introduced themselves as Daryl and Rick, but the two men had proven they were a lot more persistent and capable than Jesus had hoped they'd be.

He had almost been successful in stealing the truck, which really never rightfully belonged to Rick and Daryl to begin with. Even when the two strangers somehow caught up to him after an issue with the truck forced Jesus to stop driving for a few minutes, the younger man had still been able to fight the two off... for a moment at least.

Though Jesus was more than capable of defending himself, doing so against two opponents wasn't so easy - especially not when said opponents were both armed with guns. If there were no guns involved, Jesus would have kept fighting, and probably would have been able to incapacitate the two long enough to escape, but when they pointed their guns down at him, they looked awfully angry, and Jesus was no longer confident they wouldn't shoot him, even if the whole deal was over a mere little truck the other two men probably didn't desperately need as much as Jesus did.

Even though his instincts told him Rick and Daryl wouldn't kill him over a truck full of hoarded goods, he really didn't know for sure, and didn't want to risk it. So he stopped fighting, allowed Rick to tie up his ankles and wrists with knots the other man claimed 'weren't too tight,' and let his shoulders slump as he watched his goldmine drive off.

Shaking his head slightly in frustration, Jesus took his eyes off the truck and focused on the ropes wrapped around his arms and legs. He struggled a bit, moving his limbs in an attempt to loosen the knots and finding that Rick had most definitely underestimated his own knot-tying abilities. Jesus was pretty good at escaping various situations, but this one might take a while.

"Hey, Scott, get over here!" Jesus froze as he heard a somewhat familiar voice as well as what was certainly the sound of leaves and twigs crunching and snapping under several pairs of feet. "Look what we have here," The voice continued with a smug, sarcastic tone.

Jesus swallowed a lump in his throat, but did not make any effort to turn around. Instead, he kept working on loosening the ropes around his wrists and ankles. He didn't want to appear frantic as he did so, but needed to get the job done soon, as he knew who was behind him, and he knew they weren't exactly fans of his.

A few weeks back, Jesus had run into a group of eight men. They had traveled in a red pickup truck, with three riding in front and the other five riding in the back. Jesus had spotted them when they pulled up in front of a small shop and seemed to be scavenging through the building. It had been his plan to check the truck quickly for anything useful and then run off with his prizes before any of them ever noticed, but it turned out they'd been watching the truck through the store's tinted windows. They saw him stroll up to it and had come out and confronted them.

Of course, Jesus had played it cool, claimed he thought the truck was abandoned, and promised to leave it be. He even had a friendly chat with the men. He learned their names, told them his, joked around with them a bit, and then acted as though he was going to go along on his way, but not before he took a quick glance at the contents of the back of the truck. There was a very valuable set of knives stashed there.

Jesus took into consideration which direction the men had driven in from, and hoped to predict their next move. He took a shortcut through the woods to the next building seemingly worth scavenging through, and to his great joy, the men indeed drove their truck there next, and Jesus was ready for them. Though he knew they'd likely be watching the truck just as they had before, he also knew he was faster than them, and would probably never see them again. Once they were all inside the store, he sprinted up to the truck, snatched the stash of knives, and dashed off into the woods before any of them could even make sense of what they were witnessing.

A few of them ran after him for a few minutes, but Jesus was right - he was faster than them. He lost them quickly and took his prize home. Those knives would protect his friends, in one way or another, and he felt good for having stolen them from a small group of eight, who couldn't possibly need them as much as Jesus did.

But Jesus was wrong in guessing he'd never see these guys again, and he was in no position to try to outrun them this time.

"Looks like somebody left us a little present," One of the men noted as he walked up next to Jesus, kicked his foot lightly, and smirked down at him. "All gift-wrapped and everything."

Jesus forced a smile, hoping he could play this off as a joke among friends. He looked up at the man who was speaking, a rough-looking fellow with shaggy, greying hair and a short stubble beard. Jesus remembered this man. He had seemed like the leader of the group the last time they'd met, "Hello, Jack," Jesus greeted the man, hoping he could turn what was seeming to be shaping up to be an unpleasant encounter around.

"Paul." Jack nodded down at him. "I notice you seem unarmed..."

With a forced laugh, Jesus shrugged.

"No knives on you or anything?" Jack wondered, squatting in front of Jesus and patting down the other man, perhaps a little more roughly than necessary.

Jesus held his breath for a moment as his eyes quickly darted down the road in the direction Rick and Daryl had gone. The truck was pretty far away by now, but still visible. It looked like they had stopped in the middle of the road, probably rerouting their course back to wherever they had come from. Jesus frowned. If he were still alone, maybe he could have gotten free in time to chase after the truck, since it was stopped now, practically just waiting for him. Now that these men had found him, however, he had to deal with them rather than continuing his attempts to reclaim the loot.

Jack shoved Jesus back slightly, not hard enough to make him feel like fighting back was necessary just yet, but hard enough to where Jesus could tell the other man wasn't going to just let this go. "You go through the trouble to steal my knives, and you're not even using them?" Jack wondered with a raised eyebrow as he gripped Jesus's upper-arms with painfully hard hands.

"Consider it a bit of a joke." Jesus tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "Perhaps ill-timed... I didn't mean anything by it..."

"You fuck over them guys too?" Another of the men, Scott spoke up as he made his way in front of Jesus, nodded slightly toward the truck, and then scowled down at him. Scott was a rather bulky man with tattoos all over his arms. Even in the apocalypse, Scott seemed to feel the need to show off his tattoos. He wore a sleeveless shirt, just like he had the last time Jesus saw him. "Pretty nice of 'em to just leave you here instead of kicking the shit out of you like you deserve."

"Sorry about before," Jesus lied. "I can show you where I took your knives." That was a lie too. He didn't have those knives anymore, and had no way of getting them back. "Maybe help me get these ropes off, and we'll take a stroll down the road a bit. It's only a couple miles south."

"Thomas died in that woods we followed you into," One of the men behind Jack growled as he glared in Jesus's direction.

"That's a shame." Jesus frowned, looking over Jack's shoulder and at the other man. "You have my condolences."

"Condolences aren't enough." Scott clenched his hands into fists, and for a moment Jesus flinched back slightly, wondering if he was about to get punched. But Scott controlled his anger, for the time being at least.

"We followed you out into the woods," Jack explained. "Thomas didn't have a knife... because you took it. So when one of the undead snuck up on him, there was nothing he could do. We weren't fast enough to defend him."

"No offense," Jesus raised his bound hands slightly in defense, "but that could have happened to anyone, at any time. I won't take responsibility for that. I've traveled without a weapon lots of times, and no one _made_ you follow me. You all knew the knives were gone before you ran out into the woods-" He was interrupted when Scott kicked him hard in his shins. After a pained hiss, Jesus chose to drop that subject.

"Maybe you didn't intend on Thomas dying when he chased after you, but he did. We wouldn't have chased you if you hadn't stolen from us, so it's still on you," Jack spoke. "That can't be undone, but we can still make things right between us."

Jesus took a moment to survey his surroundings. Jack squatted next to him while Scott stood in front of him, still scowling. He counted that indeed only five other men in addition to those two were among the group, two standing somewhat behind him and three a few feet behind Jack. Thomas was indeed no longer among this group. Jesus glanced down the road to see the white truck was still there, but was now moving, although slowly. It kept going until it reached a crossroad, then turned right and drove on until Jesus couldn't see it any longer.

"I can hook you up with some canned food and old M&Ms," Jesus added onto his fake offer.

"This guy's all talk," One of the men behind Jack noted. "I don't trust him for a damn second."

"We're not looking to negotiate with you, Paul... Or Jesus. Whatever the fuck you wanna call yourself. You stole from us, and your thievery got one of my guys killed," Jack explained. "That day, I told my men... I made a promise to them... Hmm. Now, what _was_ it that I said?" He smiled down at Jesus as though he wasn't mad, but judging by the tight grip he had on the younger man's arms, he was in fact pretty pissed. "What did I say? You remember, Marcus?"

One of the men behind Jesus answered his leader, "You said if we ever find this prick again, we're gonna make him pay."

Jack nodded, "Yeah, that was it. So what do you think is a good repayment for you stealing my knives?" He raised his eyebrows toward Jesus. "And for getting Thomas killed?"

"Well, I could get the knives back for you," Jesus offered again. "Along with those M&Ms I promised. I don't have much else to offer... other than maybe a hat and gloves? And I'm sorry about your friend. I didn't get him killed. The dead are responsible for that. It's the world we live in now. It's no one's fault. But I am sorry it happened. I'm sorry he died."

For a moment, Jack simply narrowed his eyes and stared at Jesus as though thinking about what he'd offered. Maybe he was seriously considering accepting the offered exchange, not that Jesus could really deliver on his promises, but if they untied him and let him walk alongside them, he'd have a chance to run. He already knew he was quicker than they were. That theory had already been tested and proven.

Jesus stared back at Jack, waiting for any indication of what the guy might be thinking. Out of nowhere, Jack punched Jesus across his face, hitting him right on his cheek and effectively knocking him back against the hard ground.

Within seconds, some of Jack's men were on him, pulling him up by his arms, but Jesus wasn't going down (or rather up) without a fight. He swung his feet out as best as he could with them still being bound together, slamming his boots into Jack's shins and knocking him to the ground. When he felt breath on his neck as another man was pulling him up off the ground, Jesus slammed his head backward, hard, hitting the man in the nose.

Jesus must have hit him pretty hard, because the guy let go of him quickly and was groaning in pain. Jesus was now on his hands and knees, but he couldn't exactly crawl away with his limbs bound. So he settled on ducking away from grabbing hands and pretty much rolling away from his aggressors, until Jack was back on him.

Jack seemed like he was pretty much fed up with Jesus by this point, and perfectly willing to finish this fight himself. He attacked back with a vengeance, punching Jesus right in the ribs hard enough to take his breath away for a few long seconds. While the younger man was trying to force air back into his lungs, Jack climbed on top of him, gripping the front of his shirt tightly in one fist and slamming the other repeatedly into Jesus's already sore ribs before proceeding to hit him across the face a few times.

Having no other choice but to fight back, Jesus ignored the pain his his ribs and jaw and slammed both of his fists up against Jack's temple right before he felt a sharp kick to his side. Jack's friends were defending their leader, and since Jesus was literally tied up, there wasn't much he could do to fight them all off at once.

While Jesus was distracted by the harsh pain in his side, Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him harshly down against the asphalt road. He proceeded to step on the limb, hard, while tugging Jesus up by his other arm at the same time.

A sick cracking sound echoed in Jesus's ears as white hot pain shot through his arm. He couldn't help the pained cry that tore through his throat. Jack had most definitely broken the limb. Jesus's attacker let him collapse onto the ground, where he lay wincing in pain and trying to will himself to focus on breathing instead of on the excruciating pain in his forearm. Though Jesus was pretty much still by now, Jack's men didn't seem satisfied just yet.

"This is what you deserve, you son of a bitch," One of the men growled as he kicked out violently.

Jesus tried to curl in on himself to prevent the men from doing more damage to his already aching body. As he focused on himself, on controlling his ragged breathing and trying to protect himself in any small way he could, the world around him began to become more and more hazy. He could hear Jack's men were shouting various things, likely insults or threats, but he was no longer listening to their words.

While it would have been easy to let his world fade into darkness at this point, Jesus knew he had to keep fighting to escape. He didn't want to die like this, and at this rate, it seemed like the men attacking him might not stop before actually killing him. The pain in Jesus's arm was not yet diminishing at all and his attackers didn't seem to be laying off even though their victim was no longer even moving.

When it seemed like the violent kicking had stopped for a moment, Jesus took it as an opportunity to attempt to drag himself up off the ground. Putting any pressure on his broken limb caused pained tears to spring to Jesus's eyes. He groaned in frustration as he attempted to pull himself up only to find the sharp stinging in his arm prevented him from doing so. Inhaling a panicked, pained breath, Jesus pulled his arm protectively against his chest and tried to focus on just breathing as another of Jack's men reached for him.

He wasn't even sure who was grabbing at him, as focusing on breathing was hard enough. Whoever it was pulled him up off the ground only long enough to punch him so that he was back on the ground again. He landed with a pained wince.

While Jesus blinked through unshed tears and hissed at the pain in his arm and radiating through his entire body as he lay panting on the ground, someone he couldn't see dragged him up to his knees only to punch him hard in the stomach so that he fell back against the road. He coughed and curled himself up in a ball, doing his best to protect his already broken arm as more feet kicked him. Fighting back no longer seemed to be an option. He was too far outnumbered and too injured already.

"Get him on his knees," One of the men spoke. "He don't have anything to give us, but I got somethin' I could give him," the man offered with a sickening laugh. "Can't pay us back what he stole, but he can be entertaining at least."

Jesus didn't like the sound of that, but he was too physically drained and in too much pain to struggle as he was pulled to his knees. He needed a few seconds to regain his bearings before he could lash out again.

Looking down at his broken arm, Jesus inhaled and exhaled shaking breaths. He couldn't see the limb under his jacket, but he could certainly feel it, and it throbbed horribly. He blinked his eyes, trying to get the grey spots in front of his vision to go away. He felt several pairs of hands on him, dragging him up and holding him in place, not that he was even struggling at this point. As he breathed in and out painful, uneven breaths, Jesus swayed slightly on his knees, certain he'd fall to the ground if the men gripping his arms let go.

At this point, he felt like he could pass out at any moment. He could no longer keep track of which man was which. He didn't know which two were tightly gripping his upper arms, or which one stood behind him with his thick hands on Jesus's shoulders and his crotch way too close to the back of Jesus's head. Someone stood in front of him, laughing, but Jesus only saw this person's shoes. He felt entirely sick. His arm was shaking, his ribs hurt, and he'd been hit across the face a few too many times. He felt like hell.

"You bite me and I'll break your other arm. Understand?" The man in front of him growled as he grabbed Jesus's face in a harsh grip and forced him to look up at his attacker.

Jesus breathed quick, short breaths as he stared up at the man for a few seconds. His vision was still clouded and his body felt a frightening combination of pain, fear, and numbness all at once. Ignoring the threats, Jesus turned his head away and tried to think of how he was going to get out of this. When he heard the sound of the man unzipping his pants, Jesus figured he'd better think of something quickly.

"We got company, guys," Someone spoke up from behind him.

Jesus tiredly looked up in time to see Rick and Daryl, on foot and emerging from the woods. Both men held a gun, but not necessarily in a threatening way. Whether they were playing it cool because they knew they were outnumbered or because they honestly didn't care what these guys did to Jesus remained to be seen.

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 **Hope you like it so far. Please review. :)**


	2. Acquiescent

_**Hi. First of all, thanks for the reviews on my first chapter. I really appreciate the support and enthusiasm you guys have for this story so far. Up until now, within the Walking Dead category, I've mostly only written stories centering around Glenn and Daryl. In fact, I think this is my sixth story in this fandom. Four of the others have been about Glenn and Daryl, mostly, and my really short one was about Daryl and Sophia. This is my first long Walking Dead story Glenn is absent from, so it's a little different than my usual multi-chapter Walking Dead stories. I never expected to want to write a long Walking Dead story without Glenn in it, but I kind of really love Jesus, and especially love the chemistry between Rick, Daryl, and Jesus, so I thought I'd give it a go. I'm glad people are enjoying it so far.**_

 _ **NOTE: This chapter jumps back to beginning at about the same time chapter 1 began, but follows Rick and Daryl. It will progress further than where chapter 1 ended, however, and this will probably be the only chapter that jumps back in time like that. Besides these two simultaneous chapters, most of the rest of the story should end up being chronological and non-overlapping time-wise. While I'm not usually a fan of retelling the same story over and over from different perspectives, I feel in this chapter at least, it's very relevant what Daryl and Rick were up to while Jesus was being confronted by Jack and his people. Since the characters were separated, there was no other way to tell Rick and Daryl's chapter one than to divide it into a separate chapter. The rest of the story won't be quite as repetitive, and once again, even this chapter will still make progress.**_

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 **Chapter 2**

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"Felt like we was dealin' with a damn kid back there," Daryl growled in frustration as he leaned back in his seat, snapped off a chunk of stale Kit-Kat bar, and handed it to Rick.

Rick gladly accepted the chocolate and glanced in the side mirror as they drove slowly away from the man they'd just had to literally fight in order to keep the truck full of supplies they'd found. In the mirror's reflection, Rick could see that Paul, or Jesus, as the guy had called himself, was watching as the truck drove off. Rick could still see his facial expression, which seemed to convey a sort of sad pout.

"Think he'll be alright?" Rick wondered. As he drove off, he didn't necessarily feel right leaving the guy tied up on the ground like that. Of course, Paul seemed to be a pretty capable guy, but Rick had tied the ropes around the young man's wrists and ankles tight enough to ensure it would be difficult for him to escape very quickly. The man had already proven he was quick and capable, so Rick knew he had to tie him up fairly well in order to prevent him from trying anything more than he already had.

"He'll be fine," Daryl scoffed. "Why do you give a shit? He tried to steal this whole truck, and then he attacked us both when we finally caught up and confronted him. He's an asshole."

"Maybe it's not all it seems," Rick wondered. "We did find a whole truck stocked full of supplies like that... Someone must have left it there... And he didn't really get violent with us until he had to be."

" _Had_ to be?" Daryl narrowed his eyes. "He never _had_ to be violent. We wasn't gonna fight him, and he knew it. We just wanted our shit back."

Rick shrugged his shoulders and glanced back over at the mirror again, in time to see several figures emerging from the woods behind Jesus, who was still sitting on the ground where they'd left him. Rick slowed down the truck to a near-stop so he could keep an eye on whatever was going down behind them.

"What'd you stop for?" Daryl stirred in the passenger seat.

"You see that?" Rick nodded toward the mirror. Daryl looked out his window at the other side-mirror.

"Probably his friends," Daryl noted with a shrug.

Rick stared in the mirror and watched as a small group surrounded Jesus. None of them move to untie the other man. No one looked happy to see him. Rick shook his head. "Nah... I don't think so... Things look kinda tense."

"So, what?" Daryl rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "Let's go."

With narrowed eyes, Rick continued to watch the scene unfold in the mirror's reflection. One of the men had squatted down next to the still-bound man Rick and Daryl had left along the road, and was patting him down, likely checking him for weapons, which he didn't have, since Rick and Daryl had taken the few knives the man had on him before they left him there. The guy proceeded to shove Jesus and then grab his arms in a grip that looked a bit painful.

"That guy just shoved him, Daryl, and it didn't look like the kind of playful shove you'd expect from a friend. We should make sure he's alright. We should go back." Rick glanced toward Daryl, knowing the other man wasn't going to like the idea.

Daryl stared at him, obviously annoyed. "This guy ain't your responsibility, Rick. He robbed us, and maybe now he's gettin' robbed himself. He deserves it. We drive back now, and I guarantee you one of two things is gonna happen - those guys are gonna kill us thinkin' we're friends with that Paul-Jesus whatever the hell his name is thief, or they're gonna kick our asses and steal the truck, because they're friends with 'im and now we're out numbered. Either way, I'd rather just keep going. That little son of a bitch ain't our problem."

Rick sighed, which caught Daryl's attention. The other man looked at him with a raised eyebrow as Rick continued. "I've had chances to help people recently - people who were probably innocent," Rick explained, "and I didn't want to risk getting into something, so I let them die. People I didn't know. People who'd never done anything to me. I let them die, and a part of me feels guilty for not doing something when I could have. I can't take that that back. Those people are dead, and I have to live with knowing I could have saved them and chose not to. I'll live with that forever. We let some people in to our group. Hell, people let us into theirs. If we can't give people he benefit of the doubt..." Rick shook his head as he thought about his past misdeeds. "I don't want to be that kind of person, Daryl. The kind of person who sees someone else in trouble and just drives on because they aren't my problem."

"This guy isn't innocent, Rick." Daryl gestured behind them and looked back into the mirror. "We already gave him a chance, and he fucked us over."

"He didn't do anything bad enough that we should just leave him to whatever these guys have planned. At the very least, we should park the truck out of sight, and double back through the woods. Sneak up on them, see what they're talking about, make sure Paul isn't in any danger. If he seems like he's friends with them, we'll go. But if they seem like they're dangerous, and he's not part of their group, we can't just leave him."

Daryl shook his head and breathed out a frustrated breath. "Fine," he finally agreed.

Rick smiled slightly and drove the truck until they reached a crossroad. He turned, drove until they couldn't see Paul or the mystery men any longer, parked the truck, locked it, and began making their way carefully through the woods and back toward where they'd left their new acquaintance.

It had been Rick's plan to sneak through the woods so quietly that they'd be able to hide behind a tree or bush and simply listen and watch the conversation out on the road. But as soon as they drew near the spot where they'd left the younger man tied up along the road, things quickly began to seem more serious.

Rick could hear a scuffle, along with angry, threatening voices. None of them sounded like Paul's. He glanced toward Daryl and took out his gun as Daryl did the same. "We'll play along with whatever we need to until we get this sorted out," Rick instructed. "We don't have ties on either side, so as far as any of them know, we could go either way, but we're out numbered, so we've gotta play nice. Don't shoot unless you have to. We don't know if they're armed, and there are lot more of them than us."

Daryl nodded and the two quickened their pace. If Rick had to guess, he'd imagine Paul had pulled the same stunt he'd pulled on Rick and Daryl on these guys. But instead of letting it go, these guys wanted to get back at the thief.

When they got close enough to see what was going on, Rick saw that Paul was completely surrounded by seven men. A few of them were holding onto him while one stood in front of him, looking down at him and laughing. Paul didn't look well. From where Rick stood, he could see the younger man had taken quite a beating already. He had a cut below his eye and his head hung slightly forward, with his long hair hanging down partially in his eyes. Paul's breathing was labored and he looked like he could easily fall over if his aggressors weren't holding him in place.

There was no chance of sneaking up on seven men and successfully getting Paul out of this, so Rick elected to simply exit the woods calmly instead, followed by Daryl.

"We've got company," one of the men surrounding Paul spoke to another as he spotted Rick and Daryl.

Paul looked up and met Rick's eyes for a moment. He looked exhausted, uncertain, and hurt as he stared toward Rick with an almost pleading look in his pale eyes.

"Don't do that here, Matt," Rick heard one of the men tell another in a somewhat low voice.

The guy standing in front of Jesus glanced over his shoulder toward Rick and Daryl briefly before looking back down at the smaller man on his knees, leaning down closer to him, gripping his face in a large hand, and whispering something that Rick couldn't hear.

Rick noticed whatever the man had said caused Jesus to pull away from his tormentor the few inches the other men's hands still gripping his arms and shoulders would allow him to.

"You guys all doing alright?" Rick glanced from Paul to one of the others and than briefly back at Paul again, who looked almost disappointed now. It was Rick's intent to not show that he had any issue with these men, and Paul must have believed his facade, because the younger man looked legitimately hurt by Rick's indifferent word choice. Of course, he would have never had any reason to expect anything more from Rick than indifference, so he couldn't have been too disappointed.

"You know this guy?" One of the other men spoke up, gesturing down at Paul. "You the ones who tied him up for us?"

Rick nodded slightly. "We don't know him, really. We ran into him. Didn't know if he was a threat, so we left him tied up here... So he couldn't follow us."

One of the men standing off to the side laughed, "He's a slippery little prick, ain't he? It's not enough to just leave him and drive off. You gotta actually tie him down or beat him into submission before it's safe to assume he won't follow you, huh? He steal from you?"

"Tried," Daryl spoke from a few steps away from Rick's side.

"So you know how he is. He did more than _try_ to steal from us," The other man explained. "He stole some very important supplies from us, and got away with it. But not anymore. He's gonna pay for his crimes now. That's fair, right?" He glanced toward Rick. "What are your guys's names?"

Rick hesitated, but figured there was no harm in offering a name. "Rick," He answered.

"Daryl," Offered Daryl.

"I'm Jack," The other man announced. "And these are my people, Scott, Matt, Ciaran, Marcus, Dylan, and Will," he offered, gesturing toward each of the men surrounding Paul. "And of course you've met our little friend, here... Jesus."

Rick forced a tight-lipped smile. "So, looks like you knocked him around pretty good."

"We're not done with him yet," Matt spoke up. He had been standing in front of Paul, looking down at him as a few of the others held the captive man down on his knees. When Matt turned around, Rick noticed the man was re-bucking his belt. Considering Paul was on his knees, at eye-level with Matt's crotch, and Matt was standing directly in front of him when Rick and Daryl had arrived, it didn't seem like whatever the man had planned was anything less than sexual assault.

Rick hesitated as he glanced back toward Paul, who was still breathing heavy, uneven breaths, but was no longer looking in Rick's direction. Instead, he stared down at his own hands which were still bound in front of him. His arms were shaking and he was slumped forward slightly. Jack's men still held him upright by his upper arms.

"Don't you think he's had enough," Rick gestured toward the younger man.

"Looks like he's ready to pass out already," Daryl added. "At this point you can just leave 'im and let the walkers finish the job."

"What do you think, Jesus," Jack kicked the man's leg and laughed when Paul didn't respond. "You ready to be let go? Was this sufficient punishment? Hm? What do you think?"

"He ain't gonna answer you," Scott, who was standing behind Paul and gripping his shoulders noted. "He's playin' some sort of little game where he's too good to talk to us now. First he steals from us; then he acts like he's mute, but we all know you can talk." Scott squeezed Paul's shoulders. "You certainly had a lot to say before."

"Well, I think you hurt him too much, man," Daryl noted. "He seems like he's gonna faint. You can't expect him to say much when he's fighting just to stay conscious. How 'bout you give 'im a break."

"Is that what it is?" Matt turned toward Paul and put his hands on the kneeling man's shoulders. "You won't talk to me because you're too hurt? Let go of him, guys."

The other men complied so that Matt alone was holding Paul up, preventing him from falling over onto the road. But Matt didn't seem interested in holding him up for long. Within a few seconds, he shoved Paul, hard, so that the younger man landed against the asphalt, catching himself with his bound hands and promptly crying out a pained hiss before allowing himself to collapse against the ground.

When Matt reached down toward him, Paul lashed out, kicking Matt's legs and punching him against the chest with his bound hands, obviously trying to suppress another pained cry when his hands connected with the other man's chest. Rick winced as he was unsure how he could possibly stand up for Paul without making things worse. It was quite apparent that the young man's arm was hurt, judging by the pain he was obviously feeling every time he moved the limb.

Matt punched the younger man harshly across the face and then stood and kicked him in the ribs. Paul remained still, lying on the ground and breathing heavy, pained breaths.

"Enough, Matt," Jack finally spoke up again. He looked toward Rick and Daryl. "We're taking this guy with us. I wanted to teach him a lesson, but my boys went a little wild on him before I really got a proper chance to do so. If you two have something to get back at him for, you're welcome to join us. We're walking until we find a house to set up camp in. But if you're just gonna keep telling us to go easy on him, you can get the fuck out right now."

Rick nodded. "Let me talk it over with my friend," He requested. He put his hand on Daryl's arm and led him a few steps away so that their whispers could not be overheard.

"Maybe you're right," Daryl spoke in a soft voice as he glanced over Rick's shoulder at Jesus, who remained on the ground where Matt had left him. "We leave him with these guys and he's gonna wind up dead for sure. Maybe we'll go along with them until we find a way out, save this sorry prick's life, and then cut 'im loose and hope to never see him again."

"I'm pretty sure his arm is broken, and I don't know if he'd make it far on his own. We should take him back to Alexandria. We'll get him back to Denise and go from there. Maybe he's not the most trustworthy guy we've met, but he's clearly no killer. I'd rather be robbed than let an innocent man get beaten to death by these people," Rick rationalized.

"What'll be, men?" Jack asked. "I don't have all day."

"We'll come along," Rick nodded toward Jack. He looked down at Jesus, who was lying on the ground, breathing in shaking, ragged breaths. In the most sinister, cruel tone Rick could muster, he added, "This guy's gonna have to learn his lesson the hard way."

 **xxxxxx**

 _ **Hopefully I've succeeded in explaining that Rick and Daryl are totally pretending when they claim to not have any issue with Jack or his friends beating up Jesus. They feel this is their best chance at finding the right moment to help Jesus out of this, but of course, Jesus might very well not be fully aware of Rick and Daryl's intentions quite yet.**_

 _ **Please Review. :)**_


	3. Discord

**_Hi again. Thanks for your continued support. I appreciate the reviews. :)_**

 ** _This chapter goes back to following Jesus. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but the chapters are somewhat evenly split between following either Jesus, Rick, or Daryl. It seems to be only Jesus or Rick at first, but, if I am remembering right, three of the chapters follow Daryl. I just focused on whichever character the story required me to for each chapter, and it happens that the story required that to be Rick or Jesus a lot in the beginning._**

 ** _At any rate, here is the next chapter. Enjoy:_**

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 3**

 **xxxxxx**

Lying still on the ground where Matt had left him, Jesus watched and listened as the nine men around him considered his fate.

Jack had told Rick and Daryl that he and his men were going to take Jesus with them someplace, to finish what they'd started out here on the street. He'd asked Rick if he and Daryl wanted to join them, and Rick had accepted. Jesus wasn't sure what to make of it. Though a part of him figured perhaps Rick and Daryl were only pretending to be as brutal as Jack's group, a larger, more skeptical part of him wondered if Rick and Daryl were any less cruel. Jesus had pissed them off too, after all.

When Rick and Daryl had ambushed him out on the road, Jesus fought back, and very likely hurt both of them. Rick had left him tied up, even knowing that the dead roamed the world freely. If the man cared about Jesus's well-being, he wouldn't have taken such a risk. And of course Daryl had seemed to hate him from the start, ever since he'd ran into Rick and swiped the truck's keys. At that point, they didn't even know that Jesus was up to anything, and Daryl still seemed to dislike him.

He wouldn't have been surprised if they were still upset with him. Perhaps they'd left him tied up in the road because they weren't sure they could handle 'teaching him a lesson' with just the two of them to keep him subdued. Maybe they'd come back not to help Jesus, but to take part in all the fun Jack's group was having. It was very likely that Rick and Daryl saw Jack's group as allies, and Jesus was their common enemy. Jesus had a feeling he wasn't any more safe now that Rick and Daryl were here than he was before.

"We'll untie his legs and let him walk," Jack spoke to Rick. The two seemed to be hitting it off, likely because they were both the leader-type. "Hopefully he knows better than to try to run," Jack added, glancing down at Jesus.

Breathing in painful breaths, Jesus stared back up at the other man, but said nothing. He knew better than to try to run right now, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to make a break for it later. If these guys thought Jesus was just going to let them drag him around and beat him all day, they were wrong.

Jesus flinched back unintentionally, but otherwise remained motionless as Jack and Rick made their way over to him. He still wasn't sure what to think of Rick. The man was going along with whatever Jack said, but something within his eyes looked uneasy. He hadn't been too rough with Jesus before, and he certainly could have been. Maybe he wasn't a bad guy...

Since no one was hurting him at the moment, and Jack was even offering to untie his legs, Jesus remained still, lying on his back and staring up at the sky. As he breathed in pained, tired breaths, he stared at the passing clouds. Pain was radiating through his whole body - up and down his broken arm, across his ribs and chest where he'd been kicked and punched, and on his bruised cheek and jaw where he'd been hit several times too many. Lying still did little to ease that pain, but at least it didn't make it worse. So he stayed still as long as he could.

He felt his body stiffen as Rick grabbed his arms and pulled him up into a sitting position. His face must have given away the fact that he was very ready to make a run for it the first chance he got, because Rick gave him a long stare, as though trying to communicate something to him without actually saying it. The problem was, however, Jesus wasn't sure what that something was. The look could have been intended to be reassuring, or a threat. Jesus couldn't say. Either way, he remained still until Jack finished cutting the cords around his ankles and Rick pulled him up to his feet.

Jesus winced, as moving even just that much hurt him. As he stood on his feet, he looked around the group, feeling very small and out numbered. All nine of them were taller than he was, and most of them were pretty bulky too. And of course he was the only one with a broken bone and his hands bound in front of him.

"Keep him in the middle as we walk," Jack ordered his companions. "Rick and I will lead the way."

Jesus frowned as Rick and Jack walked up to the front of the group and began leading everyone down the road. Jesus stood still, swaying slightly on his feet as he wondered to himself how far he was going to make it. Even just standing hurt, and his body felt a mixture of pain, numbness, and exhaustion. He could have easily passed out at this point. How was he going to walk, and eventually make a run for it away from these guys when something so small as standing on his own feet was causing him so much trouble?

"Go," He heard someone's stern voice growl near his ear before a rough hand shoved him forward.

Jesus stumbled ahead a few steps and forced himself to walk along with the group. He glanced over his shoulder to see it had been Matt who shoved him. He looked back forward, not wanting to engage the man's attention.

Matt was the one who had threatened him before. Just before Rick and Daryl had arrived, Matt had seemed perfectly ready to demand oral sex right out in the road, right in front of all of his friends. Fortunately the other two men arrived when they did and interrupted him. Though Jesus had planned to fight back if things progressed too far, he wasn't honestly sure he could have fought too much longer.

"You got nine people here, all wanting to beat the shit out of you," Matt spoke quietly into his ear as he walked up close to Jesus. Matt put his hand on Jesus's back and leaned in close. Jesus could even feel the larger man's stubble graze his cheek. He leaned away slightly, but Matt pulled him back and gripped his upper arm tightly.

Jesus didn't respond. There was no reason to. He wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this, and couldn't really make his escape now with so many eyes on him. He had no choice but to stay still and compliant under Matt's threatening grip. They walked on for a few minutes, with Matt's arm still awkwardly around Jesus's shoulders, before the large man spoke again.

"I don't want much from you," Matt whispered. "Out of everyone here, I'm probably the only one who doesn't really feel the urge to make sure you're in pain through all this. I'd say I'm the least of your concerns, so I'd appreciate a little cooperation on your part."

As he tried to shrink down away from Matt's hands, Jesus glanced around at the rest of the group. Jack and Rick were all the way up front, and about half of the others were between them and Jesus. Daryl was to his left and the others must have been somewhere behind him. They weren't all looking in his direction. Perhaps he really cool make a run for it sooner than planned.

Matt still had hist arm wrapped around Jesus's back and was holding onto him pretty tightly by now. "When you and I finally get a minute alone, I want you to cooperate." He continued.

Jesus swallowed a lump in his throat and glanced over toward Daryl, who was looking back at him with narrowed eyes. Jesus looked away and stared at the pavement ahead as he allowed Matt to lead him down the road.

"I'm talking to you," Matt growled near Jesus's ear as he tightly gripped his broken arm for emphasis.

Jesus squeezed his eyes shut and winced as he fought the urge to shove Matt and run. He knew he wouldn't make it far, but allowing this guy to wrap his arm around him and whisper nasty threats into his ear was becoming very tedious very fast.

"I'm trying to make this easier for both of us," Matt sounded increasingly agitated as he droned on and on. "You give me what I want without a fight, and I won't hurt you. We both win."

Staring ahead, Jesus remained silent. He was not going to agree to cooperate with this man, not even for the sake of temporarily saving himself from pain. It was simply too degrading, and would give Matt too much sick satisfaction.

The grip on Jesus's shoulder and broken arm tightened the longer the younger man refused to acknowledge Matt's request. "Do you realize what I could do to you? I'm asking you for one, simple, painless thing. I could do so much worse, and you couldn't stop me," Matt growled, clearly becoming more and more impatient and frustrated with each passing second. "All you gotta say is _'I won't bite you, Matt. I'll be good a good boy and cooperate._ ' That's it. It won't even be painful for you... I mean, I guess I could always just bend you over a table... Do this in a way where you _can't_ bite me. I was just trying to be nice... Keep it fun for me, and painless for you. You know I'm going to get what I want either way. Why do you want to make it difficult?"

Jesus could feel panic rising in his chest, but refused to display his fear outwardly. He glanced around the group again, wondering if anyone else noticed Matt's threatening stance and words. He also wondered if any of them would care even if they did notice Matt's proximity and threats. It's not like anyone stood up for him the first time Matt threatened him. It seemed like the only reason Jack had told Matt to stop before was because Rick and Daryl had shown up, and perhaps Jack wanted his group to make a good impression with them. No one really cared what Matt did to him...

By this point, the larger man's arm was completely around Jesus's shoulders and he was leaning in so close that Jesus could smell a hint of alcohol on his breath. Jesus glanced toward Daryl, who looked back at him with a frown. The man looked like he was itching to say or do something, but clearly didn't know what that something could be.

When Jesus still didn't answer, Matt squeezed his arm even tighter and even began twisting the limb in his hand.

With a pained hiss, Jesus tugged at his arm and began to truly panic when Matt's grip did not loosen. He only twisted Jesus's arm further and squeezed it tighter, which brought Jesus to his knees as he tried to maneuver his body in such a way that his arm wouldn't be broken even further.

"Stop!" Jesus finally begged, staring up at Matt, who glowered back down at him. "I don't know what you want me to say," Jesus spoke in a breathless voice.

"Tell me you'll cooperate with me," Matt grinned an evil-looking smile. "Tell me you'll suck my dick, and won't make this difficult for me."

Jesus hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. There was no way he was going to agree to that. "I'm not going to say that," He persisted, with a pained wince. "I'm not cooperating with you... Under any circumstances."

Matt stared down at him and Jesus stared back. He couldn't say he was surprised when Matt raised a hand and smacked him hard across the face.

Jesus fell onto the road with a pained groan.

"You don't get to tell me no," Matt growled and was on Jesus within seconds, grabbing him and hauling him roughly up off the ground.

With a pained wince, Jesus struggled under Matt's hands. He kicked out at the larger man's ankles until Matt lashed out with an angry punch to Jesus's stomach.

"Hold him down," Matt ordered a few of his friends. It didn't take long for Jesus to feel hands on his arms and shoulders as a couple of Matt's friends gripped him, pulled him halfway up off the ground, and held him firmly on his knees. Jesus wasn't quite so close to passing out as he had been when Matt did this before, however, and he was sure as hell not going to hold still and let Matt do this to him.

Jesus pulled at his arms, ignoring the pain it caused.

By this point, a few of the others had noticed that Matt and Jesus were no longer walking along with the rest of the group. Jesus looked around at the several pairs of eyes looking in his direction. Most of the men just stood and watched with curiosity. Daryl, however, was cautiously making his way toward Matt.

"You don't gotta do that, do you?" Daryl sounded disgusted. "Come on, man," Daryl put his hand on Matt's arm and pulled him back slightly.

Matt shrugged out of Daryl's grip and looked back down toward Jesus. "He owes me," Matt glared at Jesus, but was answering Daryl. "If you don't like it, you don't have to watch."

Jesus shrunk back away from Matt as the larger man started unbuckling his belt again. By now, the entire group had stopped walking, but most of them just stared with sick fascination.

"Hey!" It was Rick's voice Jesus heard now. He sounded like he was ready to stand up for Jesus, but Jesus could see the man still stood a distance away, next to Jack. He wan't moving to help him. "We're better than this," Rick spoke carefully.

For now, Jesus held still. If Daryl or Rick stood up for him, he might not have to fight his own way out. It would be preferable to not be the one to turn this into a fight.

"I'm not," Matt smirked and grabbed a fist full of Jesus's hair, forcing him to look up at his attacker. "You play nice, and so will I."

 _ **xxxxxx**_

 _ **My stories have always got to include a creep antagonist, I guess... I feel like, realistically, in a lawless apocalyptic world, there would probably be a lot of people like Matt... There are a lot of people like Matt in the world already, without the apocalypse in place...**_


	4. About Jack

_**NOTE: I lied when I said other chapters wouldn't jump back a bit time-wise. This one jumps back a few minutes from the end of the previous chapter as well, but again, will progress further than the point where chapter 3 ended.**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 4**

 **xxxxxx**

Rick felt extremely uneasy as he walked at the front of the group with Jack. The leader of this violent group had taken an instant liking to him and had wanted the two of them to walk together, leading the way. Rick didn't like this for a few reasons: He would have rather walked in the back, to keep an eye on Jesus and Daryl, and he didn't really care to make friends with Jack. He honestly already didn't like the man. Even so, he supposed creating a sort of bond with the guy could be beneficial to his plans to gain trust and slip himself, Daryl, and Jesus away when the time came.

As they walked along, Rick had to fight the urge to continuously glance over his shoulder to check in on his friend and the younger man who they were attempting to smuggle away from these people. He was fairly confident Daryl wouldn't be harmed, but he also knew Daryl wasn't as good as playing nice with people he hated than Rick was. Jesus was Rick's main concern. The man had seemed ready to pass out the last time Rick observed him. That along with these men seeming to want to inflict the most violence possible on the guy was very troubling. Rick certainly didn't want Jesus to get hurt any more than he already had been, but keeping that from happening wasn't going to be easy.

"So, before all this, me and Thomas worked at a factory," Jack spoke as he and Rick made their way down the road. "I couldn't tell you how god damned frustrating it was, doing mind-numbing work like that, day after day, working under a supervisor who didn't know a god damned thing about the world... This whole rising of the dead may have been the best thing that ever happened to me... if not for that prick back there." He gestured behind him, obviously referencing Jesus.

"Things are certainly different now," Rick noted, keeping up his end of a conversation he'd never asked to be a part of.

"What'd you do before all this, Rick?" Jack wondered.

"I was a cop," Rick answered.

Jack glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, "Really?"

Rick nodded and chose his next words carefully. He didn't want to seem like he was still a cop. He didn't want Jack to think he was going to try to do 'the right thing' at every chance he got. "It's nice to no longer have laws to restrict me. Now I've got all of my training and skills from the job, but I can do whatever I want with it."

Jack grinned and nodded, obviously pleased with Rick's words. "You have a wife before all this?" He wondered. "A girlfriend? Any kids?"

"I had a wife," Rick answered. "She died." He chose not to mention his children. As far as Jack needed to know, Daryl and Rick were all alone in this world.

"Sorry to hear that," Jack frowned. "I was never married, but had a girl I was into before the dead started walking. Lost her pretty early-on. You have any luck with anyone since your wife? Or is that insensitive of me to ask...? People seem to move on quickly these days, but maybe you don't..."

"No one since my wife," Rick lied and shook his head. He didn't need to tell this guy every detail of his life, and didn't want to mention Alexandria at all. These men didn't need to know where he and Daryl came from.

"Me neither," Jack shrugged. "Haven't really met many women since the world ended. Scott's wife and son were with us for a while in the beginning, and Thomas's brother. Will had a girlfriend for a while too. He saved her from the dead ones early on and she got pretty clingy after that. I don't even know what happened to her. I think Matt scared her off. I didn't say anything to Will about that suspicion though. Don't want to stir up tension within the group, you know? For all Will knows, his girl just got snatched by some hungry corpse sometime in the night. And maybe she did... Hell, we've seen lots of people come and go over the months, and don't ever know what even happened to half of them. Especially the women. Women don't seem to last long in this world."

Rick nodded, though he didn't agree. Many of the women he knew were lasting just fine. Carol, Michonne, Sasha, Maggie... Jack was simply wrong when he implied women weren't fit for the world. Maybe they didn't last in this group, but in a group of normal people, women survived just as long as the men did. But Rick certainly didn't want to mention his friends to the man, so he didn't.

"I hope I'm not being too forward, but you and Daryl don't seem to be from around here. You guys have that sort of southern thing going on in your accents. Where you guys from originally?" Jack wondered.

"Georgia," Rick answered. He supposed offering a bit of true information would do no harm. He mostly just needed to not mention any of his surviving friends or where they were living now.

"Wow. You're along way from home. How'd you end up all the way over here?" Jack wondered.

"We were traveling with a guy who used to live around here. A guy named Noah. He was just a kid, late teens, early twenties... I guess I never really asked him his age. We let him join us and accompanied him to his old town to see if any of his family had survived," Rick answered. "They hadn't."

Jack frowned, "That's usually how it works. Where's this guy now?"

"He was killed shortly after. A lot of people have come and gone from our group too, Jack," Rick looked at him. "It's just me and Daryl now."

"There could probably be a place for you both here with us," Jack offered. "Maybe we can consider this a little trial run. See how you and my guys get along. I like you though, so far, and I'm sure my men will too. Daryl's a little aloof. But that's alright. We got a couple quiet sorts here already, and they get along fine."

Rick nodded, but didn't accept the half-offer. Of course, there was no way he'd join this group, but Jack didn't need to know that.

Rick turned around when he heard commotion behind him, in time to see that a few of the men had forced Jesus to his knees and were holding him there. Matt, the man who had seemed ready to sexually assault Jesus before, was at it again, but Daryl was already attempting to defend the younger man, pulling Matt's arm somewhat gently while trying to diffuse the situation. "Come on, man," Daryl spoke in a low, calm voice.

Matt moved out of Daryl's grip. "He owes me. If you don't like it, you don't have to watch," Matt growled as he looked down at Jesus again and began moving to unbuckle his belt.

"Hey!" Rick called out. As much as he wanted to appear indifferent, there was no way he was going to stand back and let this happen. "We're better than this," He added as his hand itched to grab for his gun. He didn't want to pull a weapon on these men unless he had to though. He would try to diffuse the situation without threat of violence if possible.

"I'm not," Matt grinned at Rick and turned back toward Jesus, grabbing a fist of the man's hair and pulling his head back harshly. Jesus winced as Matt continued with his threats. "You play nice, and so will I," Matt growled.

Rick inhaled a careful breath as he fought to remain calm. He looked toward Daryl, who looked just as lost as Rick felt. They had to do something, but hopefully something that wouldn't expose the truth behind their allegiance.

"Matt," Daryl's voice was low and serious as he approached Matt again. "We don't do that shit where we come from."

"I don't care," Matt shoved the other man away.

Jesus took the opportunity given to him by Daryl and Matt's minor altercation as a chance to attempt escape. He threw his elbow back against one of the men holding onto him and allowed himself to fall back onto the road. Once on the ground, he kicked out at the legs of those who were lunging toward him, attempting to reclaim their hold on him.

Matt was on Jesus within no time, punching him harshly in the ribs until Jesus curled in on himself and stopped fighting, which didn't take long considering how hurt the man already was. Jesus was dragged back up to his knees.

"Stop it!" Rick growled, going so far as to even put his hand on his holstered gun this time. He noticed Jesus was breathing shallow, ragged breaths as was held up by his arms while also being held down, forced to remain on his knees in front of Matt as the older man continued fumbling with his pants.

Rick took a step forward. "I'm all for vengeance," He spoke, "but this is where I draw the line. I can understand wanting to teach this guy a lesson, but I didn't know you all were rapists." He glanced toward Jack, hoping to be backed up by the group's leader. Jack's word would mean more than his, and since Jack seemed to respect Rick on some level, it wasn't too far fetched for Rick to assume Jack might take Rick's opinions into consideration. Getting him to ask Matt to stop could go a long way.

Jack looked at Rick for a moment before moving his gaze to Matt and Jesus. "He's right, Matt. Cut that out." Jesus was lucky Jack seemed determined to impress Rick for some reason.

Rick could see Matt's shoulders slump. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Matt growled, turning toward Jack and staring. Rick scowled at him and fought the urge to feel sick when he saw Matt's belt buckle, pants button, and zipper were all undone. The man had wasted no time whatsoever.

"No, Matt," Jack sounded angry now too. "I'm not fucking kidding you. You need to keep your dick in your fucking pants. We all want to beat a little sense into this guy, but Rick's right. We're better than this. He deserves a proper punishment for the things he did. But there's nothing proper about forcing yourself on someone, no matter what your reason."

Matt's hands were balled into fists, but he didn't argue.

"Zip your pants back up, and take step back, Matt," Jack ordered.

For a moment, Matt did not move. He simply stared at Jack and then briefly toward Rick. Rick hoped he hadn't just made an enemy, but he did what he had to. There was a certain degree to which he had to sit back and let these men do whatever they wanted, but sitting back and watching that kind of degradation was simply not something he was willing to do.

A growling sound tore from Matt's throat as he turned back toward Jesus and hit him hard across the face.

The other men had released their hold on Jesus and allowed him to fall back against the road with a pained groan. Jesus remained still, but obviously still conscious as he lay against the asphalt.

"How about we have someone else take a turn keeping an eye on our prisoner," Jack suggested, giving Matt an annoyed, warning glance. "Maybe someone who won't insist on stopping every ten minutes for an impromptu blow job. We're trying to fucking get somewhere."

"I'll do it," Daryl nodded.

"Thank you, Daryl," Jack nodded back, turned around, and continued walking while shaking his head in frustration.

Rick watched as Jesus looked skeptically up at Daryl who approached him and pulled him up to his feet before taking a step away and finally giving the younger man a bit of space no one else had been willing to.

"Come on," Daryl gestured for Jesus to follow as the group continued walking.

Rick gave Daryl a second-long glance and a very subtle nod. He was confident Daryl would do what he could to keep Jesus from further harm. Now the two of them just needed a chance to talk alone and formulate a plan to get themselves and Jesus out of this mess.

 **xxxxxx**

 **Please review. :)**


	5. Make or Break

**_Thanks for your continued support. :) I'm loving all the positive reviews, and hope you'll continue to enjoy the story. Finally, this chapter follows Daryl (for most of it, anyway.) Enjoy:_**

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 5**

 **xxxxxx**

Daryl wished he hadn't gotten out of bed this morning. It had been his intention to go on a simple supply run. He expected to not find much, but to find enough to make the run worth it at least. And then he expected to return home with their plunder and call it a day.

He did not expect to hit the jackpot, nor did he expect to come across this man, Jesus... And he certainly didn't expect to somehow become responsible for the man, or to have to play bad-guy to keep this random stranger from being killed or molested by a bunch of vengeful pricks who clearly wanted to beat him to within an inch of his life. Hell, they already had done quite a number on the poor young man and still weren't satisfied. As much as Daryl knew this guy was not his problem, he also felt Rick was right that they couldn't just leave him alone with these people. Jesus didn't seem to be a bad person... just kind of annoying. But as annoyed as Daryl was with the guy, that didn't mean he deserved what this group wanted to do to him.

Daryl walked along next to Jesus, having taken on the responsibility of watching him as the group walked for a few reasons - to make sure the other guys didn't attack him again, to maybe have a bit of a private conversation with the young man, and to keep an eye on his physical condition. Before they had begun walking Jack had cut the ropes around Jesus's ankles, so he was now able walk alongside Daryl, but he wasn't the quick, springy fellow he'd been before. Now he was practically dragging his feet and looked like he was five seconds from collapsing onto the ground.

In order to be afforded the opportunity to talk to the man as well as help prevent him from falling onto the road, Daryl put his hand gently but firmly on Jesus's arm and held onto him. He leaned in somewhat close and begun whispering to the younger man so that no one else in the group could overhear, "What the hell did you steal from these guys anyway?"

Daryl could feel that Jesus's arms were shaking, probably because, as Rick had noted, one of his arms was most definitely broken, and because his hands were bound together, the broken limb was being constantly agitated. "Knives," Jesus glanced toward Daryl and offered a half smile before looking forward again and exhaling a deep, shaking breath. He was clearly in a lot of pain.

"That's it?" Daryl scoffed. "The way they act I figured you'd of stole somethin' better then that..."

Jesus shrugged slightly, followed by a small wince brought on by moving his broken arm the slightest bit. His hands were still tied in front of him, so moving one would move the other as well.

As they walked along, Daryl wasn't sure what else to say. He still didn't feel great about this guy. Jesus had stolen from him and Rick too. But of course, that didn't mean he deserved whatever these men were planning for him. They'd already broken his arm and hit and kicked him to the point where even just walking was seeming painful for the man.

Before Daryl could say anything more, Jesus spoke up. "You guys gonna kill me?" He glanced up toward Daryl with a sort of pout and raised eyebrows. "Because I'd rather take my chances and make a break for it right now than willingly march to my death. I'm getting sick of this, fast. You and Rick seem more reasonable than these guys... If you're going to try to kill me, just let me know so it can at least be a fair fight."

Daryl frowned. He couldn't believe this man he didn't even know, who'd just tried to rob him an hour earlier, was making him feel guilty. In a way, Daryl felt he and Rick were at fault for this situation, if only partially. They had left Jesus tied up out in the open. If they hadn't done that, the man could have run off when Jack's men approached him, or could have at least attempted to fight them off with a better chance at success. Of course, Rick wouldn't have tied him up if he hadn't attempted to steal from them first.

Daryl glanced down at Jesus, who was still staring at him with pale, uncertain eyes. "I ain't gonna kill you, man," Daryl promised in a low voice. "Can't say what these other guys'll do, but not me an' Rick. We'll try to get you outta this, but we gotta play along with these guys first. We're out-numbered, an' you don't seem to be in any shape to fight."

Jesus shook his head. "I can fight," He promised, though his voice sounded weak and he still leaned heavily on Daryl as they walked. "You guys give the signal, and I'll be ready. I may not be able to fight off seven guys by myself, while I'm tied up, but with you two here, we've got this. You both have guns, and you've even got ammo. I can't say these guys have the same advantage."

"Well, do they?" Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Do you _know_ they don't have guns, or do you _think_ they don't have guns?"

"I haven't seen any yet," Jesus noted. "I can't be sure, but I know I've not seen any indication that they're armed with anything other than knives."

Daryl nodded subtly. If he'd known that, he would have suggested to Rick that they just threaten these guys with their guns right from the start, catch them off guard. But the time to do that was gone. Now Rick was up at the front of the group, walking with Jack, who seemed to want to have a leader-to-leader chat with him. And Daryl was back here with Jesus, and the other guys were spread out all over the road. They'd have to regroup before planning to end this.

"You guys didn't have to come back." Jesus spoke again as they walked. He sounded exhausted and was still leaning against Daryl's grip as though he legitimately needed the man's support to keep himself upright.

Daryl frowned, "Well, you tried to rob us. There's no taking that back. But even so, what you did doesn't mean you deserve to die, or even get beaten up like this. If you think we're still pissed at you, you're right. If you think we hate you and want you dead, you're wrong. We _did_ have to come back. You can thank Rick for that. He didn't want to leave you to this."

Jesus shook his head. "I don't mean that... I'm not worried that you hate me." He offered a small laugh. "I'm just saying, you two didn't need to risk your lives to come back. I could have gotten out of this on my own. You don't owe me anything, and I don't need people fighting my battles for me."

Daryl fought the urge to roll his eyes. The whole time they'd been walking, Jesus seemed like he was pretty close to collapsing onto the ground. He had at least one broken bone already, and when Daryl and Rick made their presence known, it had looked like they'd gotten there just in time. Jesus had been on his knees, wavering slightly as though close to losing consciousness, and the one guy, Matt, seemed to be just about ready to get his jollies off in Jesus's mouth. Even just a few minutes ago, Matt had been ready to deliver on his earlier threats, and if Daryl and Rick hadn't stepped in and defended him, Jesus very likely wouldn't have dodged that assault either. Daryl thought better than to mention that, however. Surely Jesus was well aware of all that, and just wanted to feel like he wasn't as defenseless as he actually was. "Is that so?" Daryl said simply.

"It is," Jesus nodded. "I've gotten out of worse situations."

Daryl let go of Jesus's arm and took a step back. "You want me to leave you to it then?"

Jesus hesitated as his eyes scanned around the group he was walking among. "If you leave me your gun. Just as a backup, of course."

Daryl shook his head and stepped back forward, carefully gripping Jesus's arm again and leading him along. "Why you so obsessed with stealing from everybody? And risking your life to do it? Who the hell thinks it's a good idea to go up to seven guys that look like they're in a fuckin' biker gang, and steal from 'em?"

"Well, there were eight back then," Jesus noted, while dodging Daryl's questions. "And it _was_ a good idea. I got away with it until you guys left me tied up along the road. I could have outrun them again, but my legs were tied together." He glanced up at Daryl and offered a half-smile.

Daryl shook his head, "Man, you're lucky tying you up is all Rick did to you. You gotta watch out who you fuck over these days. You didn't know what he might have done, what either of us might have done. Rick's killed people, man. So have I."

Jesus rolled his eyes, "We've all killed people, Daryl. I felt pretty sure you two wouldn't kill me over a truck. You seemed normal enough, and I needed the supplies enough to take that chance."

"You didn't know that though. We could have killed you. People kill for much less these days," Daryl frowned, almost wanting to grab Jesus by the shoulders and shake some sense into the guy. He was going to get himself killed if he kept assuming no one would get angry and kill him over this kind of thing.

"Which is why I gave in and let you take it back," Jesus shrugged. "I didn't _think_ you'd kill me if I kept fighting, but I wasn't sure... so I gave in."

"You gotta be more careful," Daryl advised. "You didn't know what we might have done. Even just running into us in the first place... Risking being killed just to steal a truck... You shouldn't 'a done that. You didn't know anything about us. We could'a shot you right off the bat."

"I guessed that you wouldn't. I figured you guys seemed like okay people, and I was pretty much right," Jesus noted. "I'm usually good at reading people."

"Not these guys," Daryl frowned.

"No, I could see that they might be the violent type," Jesus disagreed. "I just counted on being able to outrun them."

Daryl shook his head. Jesus was playing a very dangerous game, immediately pissing off every new person he met in this world. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened to him, and he honestly was lucky Rick and Daryl were in a good mood when he came across them. He was also lucky someone hadn't just straight up shot him with no questions asked. In the world they lived in now, people killed each other for any small reason, and sometimes for no reason at all. "You pull this shit on everyone you meet?" Daryl wondered.

"If I need something more than the person who has it, I'll take it if I can," Jesus answered. "I'm not trying to cheat anyone. I'm just trying to survive. I'm sure you've done the same thing."

"You think you need a whole truck full of food more than we do?" Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"You're just two people. You said you didn't have a camp," Jesus noted.

"So did you," Daryl glared at him. "What does one guy need with all those supplies?"

"What do two guys need with all of it?" Jesus countered.

Daryl decided to let the subject drop. Maybe this meant Rick and Daryl weren't the only ones lying when they said they didn't belong to a larger group. Jesus probably lived with others too, was trying to scavenge supplies for his group, and figured his people needed the truck more than Rick and Daryl did. To be fair, if he believed that the other two men were truly alone, and he had a whole family or community to feed, it wasn't too unreasonable for Jesus to feel he needed the truck more than they did. That line of thinking certainly made Jesus seem like a more reasonable person. Perhaps he stole the knives for the same reason - he had a whole group of people depending on him, and they didn't have weapons to defend themselves with. Jesus risked his life stealing from these guys, but it wasn't just for the sake of stealing. It was to save his family or friends.

"Let's stop here," Jack called out from the front of the group when they reached a medium-sized house along with a large barn. "Rick, Matt, and I will make sure it's clear. You guys stay out here and keep your eyes and ears on alert. Don't let that fucker run off," He added, glancing toward Jesus and making eye contact with Daryl.

Daryl nodded. Jesus didn't seem like he'd be able to make it far if he did choose to run off, and even if Daryl wouldn't have minded letting him go, there were five other men out here who would surely chase him down. He kept his hand on Jesus's arm as the younger man stood still and compliant, looking like he still didn't feel well, but keeping a close watch on his surroundings at the same time. He was quite likely looking for an opportunity to escape. Daryl hoped he wasn't planning anything in the immediate future, however, as he would have liked to talk to Rick first, formulate a good plan, and not just have Jesus run off in view of everyone who would try to stop him.

Jesus, Daryl, and the others stood outside the house as they waited to hear the word from Jack that the building was clear. As they waited, neither Jesus nor Daryl spoke to the other. Everyone was standing too close now for Daryl to feel it wise to speak with Jesus any more, as they'd certainly be overheard.

As they stood in silence, Daryl kept a firm grip on Jesus's arm. Though he was unsure if Jesus was contemplating escape, he honestly didn't want to let the man run off yet. There would be a time for that, and it didn't seem to be now.

Looking around the group, Daryl noticed a few of the men were looking in his direction, probably to keep an eye on their captive. Scott, a large man with tattoos covering his arms, was standing fairly close, looking Jesus up and down as though contemplating future plans.

"You're gonna wish you'd never met us," Scott spoke in a low vice as he glared at Jesus.

"I already do," Jesus offered a small, sarcastic laugh.

Scott narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. Daryl had to fight the urge to step back and pull Jesus along with him and away from the man. Instead, he held still, noticing Jesus was very slightly leaning away from the tattooed man as he drew nearer.

"Have you ever been beaten with a belt so hard that you bleed from the welts?" Scott asked with a sick smirk on his face.

Jesus didn't answer.

"I'll bet you haven't. I bet your skin is as smooth as a little kid's under that coat. Won't be for long. After tonight, you'll have scars that'll stay with you until the day you die... Assuming you live through all these guys beating some sense into you and having their way with you, that is," Scott shrugged.

Daryl frowned as he kept a firm hold on Jesus, who was leaning against him now more than ever, if only to distance himself from Scott any small amount he could. Though Jesus didn't say anything back to the larger man, Daryl almost wanted to. Maybe Jesus hadn't ever been hit with a belt, but Daryl had, and it wasn't something he'd wish on anyone else. The level of cruelty among these men was astounding, to the point where Daryl wasn't sure if their actions could be classified as revenge anymore. They'd have probably taken the opportunity to hurt anyone like this. They clearly enjoyed it.

"All clear," Jack called out as he walked out the front door, followed by Rick and Matt. Daryl noticed Rick looked a bit uneasy, but it was so subtle a look that if Daryl hadn't known the man, he wouldn't have picked up on it.

"Well, have fun guys," Jesus said casually as he quickly shrugged out of Daryl's grip and took a cautious step back. "It was nice seeing you all again."

"Not just yet, you little prick," Scott ordered as he reached out a large hand toward the younger man, but Jesus dodged his grip, took advantage of the man's proximity, and kicked out, hitting him hard in the stomach, which caused Scott to stumble backward.

Daryl felt himself tense. He didn't know what to do. Of course he was on Jesus's side in this, but he hadn't had the chance to confer with Rick yet. They didn't have a plan, and were still out numbered. He glanced toward Rick, who made eye contact with him, but otherwise just shrugged slightly.

In a way that didn't give his allegiance away, Daryl put himself in the way so that one of Jack's men couldn't get to Jesus quite as quickly. He couldn't make it obvious that he was trying to help Jesus, because he knew this escape attempt was probably not going to work. Rick and Daryl still needed to seem like they were on Jack's side of this dispute.

Jesus kicked a second of Jack's men back, followed by a half-second of hesitation before he turned and darted into the woods.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered under his breath as he took off running after the other man. Though he didn't care much if the guy got away, he didn't want to just stand back and let Jack's men catch him. If Daryl ran after Jesus, he could decide what action to take next based on how the situation progressed. If Jesus seemed to be totally cornered, Daryl could catch him so the others would not, and if helping him escape somehow became possible, he could do so.

At any rate, he had to keep the man within his sight, at least until he was safely away from all of the others.

 **... ...**

Jesus's whole body ached as he ran as hard as he could into the woods. His hands were still bound in front of him and every movement jostled his broken arm, causing sharp pain to shoot up and down the limb.

As soon as they'd reached the house, Jesus knew he needed to make his break for it, and soon. It seemed to him that Jack and his men had wanted to find a house solely for the purpose of having Jesus better contained while they beat him. He couldn't just let them... And though Jesus was often a quite stoic, calm person, who didn't get panicked all too easily, it scared him that these men had already broken his arm, hit and kicked him enough that even walking was painful, and yet they still somehow weren't finished with him. What more did they want to do?

When Scott had threatened him, Jesus knew he needed to get away from the men as soon as possible. The longer he played nice and remained compliant, the more likely he would never get out of the situation. Whether Daryl was truthful or not, Jesus was not willing to rely on him and Rick to save him. He didn't know if they really were on his side, and didn't trust that their timing would work for him. He couldn't stand to just sit around and wait for Rick and Daryl to choose a safe time to get him out of this. He'd been hurt too much already, and the threats of further pain were becoming more and more frightening.

It was clear that Rick and Daryl were willing to play along with Jack and his men to an extent, and Jesus didn't know how far they'd be willing to let the other men go before stepping in. What if Jack hadn't told Matt to stop out on the road? Would Daryl and Rick have persisted? How far would they go to keep Jesus from being hurt? Whether they truly wanted to help him or not, Jesus just couldn't accept their help if it meant waiting for them to choose how far was too far, especially not when he had no idea how long they wanted him to allow the other men to drag him around and hurt him.

His breaths were sharp, quick, and painful as Jesus ran onward into the woods. He could hear quite a few pairs of feet and angry voices not far behind.

"Gimme your gun," He heard one of Jack's men demand in an annoyed voice a few yards behind him.

"No," Daryl's voice growled back.

Jesus tried to run faster. He was exhausted and still in quite a bit of pain. His vision swam and he wasn't sure how much longer he could go on. Even so, he continued running on tired, aching legs. Giving up was not an option.

"Get it out at least," The guy said back to Daryl. "Threaten to shoot him."

"You want me to kill him?" Daryl wondered. "Thought you wanted to keep him around..."

"If he's gonna run off, I'd rather him be dead than get away," The other voice explained.

Exhaling, Jesus forced his tired legs to continue. With each step, his ribs hurt worse and worse and his vision grew more and more clouded. Daryl had been right. Jesus was in no condition to fight, or to even run, but he didn't really have a choice at this point. He could feel his legs becoming heavier and heavier, and knew his pace was slowing.

"Out of my way, Daryl," Someone growled from behind him.

Daryl must have been trying to help, in the least obvious way possible. It wasn't going to work, however, because Jesus couldn't go on at this rate. His legs refused to carry him as fast as he needed to go, and Daryl couldn't hold back the whole group forever, especially not if he wanted to keep the fact that he was aiding Jesus a secret.

As Jesus forced his legs to keep moving, he glanced over his shoulder in time to see Scott, the large tattooed man who had hit him pretty hard before and threatened to beat him with a belt a few minutes earlier, shove Daryl roughly to the side. By now, Scott was a mere few feet behind Jesus, and since Jesus was quite injured, and Scott was not, the other man's pace wasn't slowing as Jesus's was.

There was nothing anyone could do to prevent Scott from lunging forward as soon as he got close enough. He wrapped his arms around Jesus's body and tackled him roughly to the forest floor.

With a pained groan, Jesus turned himself over under Scott's body and immediately began fighting back. Scott had no gun, and if he had a knife, he wasn't holding it. There was no reason for Jesus to give up just yet.

Jesus winced as Scott's fist connected with his his cheek and his vision swam even more than before. For a moment, Jesus lay still, blinking, panting pained, exhausted breaths, and trying to bring himself back to the present. As soon as his wits were about him again, he thrashed his body to the side, in an attempt to throw Scott off him. Though his arm hurt horribly, he knew he didn't have much other choice than to fight back with his bound hands as his only weapon. He slammed both hands up against Scott's face, but was rewarded with an even harder swing back from the larger man. Scott punched him so hard that for a moment, everything in front of Jesus's eyes was a smoky grey. He panted as he lay still, almost ready to finally give up fighting, until he felt a harsh hand grip around his hurt arm.

At this point, Jesus in-took a sharp breath and struggled to pull his arm free. Scott knew that arm was broken, and was taking advantage of that, squeezing the limb harshly in an attempt to hurt Jesus the most he could in order to easily subdue him.

Still gripping Jesus's broken arm in a tight, painful grip, Scott swung his other hand down against the younger man's ribs. As pained tears welled up in Jesus's eyes, he continued to struggle. By this point all the other men had caught up. Jesus noticed Rick standing a bit apprehensively to the side, looking like he was contemplating stepping in, and Daryl, who was actually attempting to pull Scott up off of him.

"Enough, man." Daryl growled. "You're gonna kill 'im." Scott pushed Daryl away and hit Jesus again, very hard across his face.

Jesus felt blood trickling from his nose as he coughed and struggled to pull his arms out of Scott's grasp. By this point, Scott had him pinned down pretty securely, and had hit Jesus more than enough to subdue him. By now, Jesus probably couldn't have stood up and ran even if Scott let him. His body ached and his vision was clouded.

"Daryl's right." Jack agreed, patting Scott on the shoulder, but not moving to pull him up off of Jesus. "Why don't you ease up a bit? We wanted to teach him a lesson, but not like this. Not by beating him to death, out in the woods. We want this to be a lesson that'll stick. Nothing's gonna stick with him if he doesn't live through it."

"Let me walk with him." Rick suggested, taking a step forward and reaching cautiously toward Scott's arm.

Jesus lay still on the ground, breathing in quick, shaking breaths as he felt crushed under Scott's weight. He glanced over toward Rick with raised eyebrows. He still didn't have a good enough read on Rick or Daryl. They seemed like good people, but you could never be too sure in this world. Even so, either or both of them seemed to be a better alternative than any of Jack's men.

"He won't run or fight if he's with me," Rick added, "because he knows I'll shoot him."

Jesus stared at Rick. The man had threatened to shoot him before, but Jesus still didn't think Rick really ever would have. He didn't seem like the sort who would kill for a truck full of supplies. Neither did Daryl. In fact, they'd both already proven they wouldn't kill him for something so small. They'd already let Jesus go once. They certainly could have shot him then, but they chose not to.

Just as Jesus felt Scott was about to let him up, and hopefully leave him in Rick's charge, he felt a sharp pain against his temple as the large, tattooed man hit him, hard. Everything then went black.

 _ **xxxxxx**_


	6. Vindication

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 **Chapter 6**

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Rick did not feel good about the situation he found himself in. Though it seemed Jack and his men still trusted that Rick and Daryl were on their side, it wasn't coming easy pretending to be okay with capturing and torturing a man as punishment for thievery. He and Daryl needed to come up with a plan to get out of this mess, and to take the other man, Paul, along with them.

It was strange that Jack seemed to have grown fond of Rick quite quickly. He had assumed from the start that Rick was the man in charge between him and Daryl, and since Jack was clearly the one in charge of his group, he'd wanted to talk with Rick right away. He had requested that Rick walk along with him before Paul attempted escape, and he had volunteered himself to help Rick carry Paul back to the house.

Now Rick and Jack were down in a basement, tying Paul to a support beam, while Daryl remained with the others upstairs. Rick and Daryl had an unspoken understanding that they shouldn't whisper between each other too much in front of these men. They had a front to keep up, and it depended on the others not thinking Rick and Daryl were up to anything. They couldn't seem like they were keeping secrets or plotting anything, so they kept their distance from each other for now, while each keeping an eye on Paul and the vengeful men around them as best as they could without doing anything to raise suspicion. They needed to speak to each other alone, and without an audience of suspicious members of Jack's group. So far, such an opportunity hadn't presented itself.

"I can tell you're not a violent person, Rick." Jack spoke as he tied Paul's wrists securely with rope that was also tightly wrapped around the support beam.

Rick nodded and continued his work tying Paul's ankles together, but kept the knots loose. Not so loose that it was obvious he was trying to help the other man, just loose enough so that if anyone noticed, Rick could just claim he wasn't an expert at tying people up.

"This guy pissed you off, but you got back your truck and didn't want to get your hands dirty, so you just left him for the dead ones to finish him off." Jack guessed. "I can understand that. But I think you underestimate him."

"How so?" Rick looked up toward Jack who was still tightly bounding Paul's hands behind him. While Jack was paying attention to his work, Rick let himself glance briefly at Paul, who was still unconscious from the harsh hit Scott had delivered out in the woods. The young man's long hair hug loosely over his face, as he was slumped forward as much as the pillar and his arms secured around it behind him would allow. Paul's cheek under his right eye was bruised and cut, with a bit of blood drying over his skin. Blood from the man's nose had dripped down his lip and over his chin and it looked like his lower lip was cut too, though the blood from his nose made that injury unclear. Jack's men were clearly very upset with this man, though Rick couldn't see why such a brutal level of violent anger was necessary. Were a few knives really worth this much rage?

"I think you and your friend, Daryl see this guy as a small nuisance. He tried to steal from you, as he did from us, but you caught him, and were gonna leave it at that. I think you both dislike this guy as much as we do, but you also both seem to be a little uneasy when my boys get too violent. Let me just tell you, this guy doesn't deserve your concern. You know what would have happened if me and my men didn't show up after you left this man tied up and drove off?" Jack looked up from the ropes he'd finished tying and raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Rick wondered, finishing his looser knots and standing.

Jack stood as well, "He would have gotten free, and he would have followed you, and stolen whatever it was he wanted to steal. This man is more skilled than you might guess, and more dangerous. You saw how he almost escaped when we got here... My men kicked the shit out of him already before you even showed up. At this point, he should have been passed out on the fucking pavement, struggling just to breathe... But he sure as hell wasn't. He almost got away, Rick. My guys didn't go easy on him, and he still almost got away. You can't just let him off with a warning like you and Daryl did. I know he looks awfully vulnerable now - now that he's passed out, beaten up, and bound, but you gotta watch out for guys like this. He only cares about his own interests, and that'll get people like you and me killed if we don't keep him on a short leash."

Rick nodded as he continued considering the man passed out down on the floor. Paul's arm was really going to hurt when he regained consciousness. It was already broken, and Jack had tightly bound it against the wooden pillar anyway.

"He got one of my men killed, Rick." Jack continued. "You and Daryl got lucky. You're lucky your encounter with this guy was short and sweet, but ours wasn't. First time we met him, he was trying to steal shit out of our truck while we were scavenging through a store. We came out and confronted him and he claimed he thought the truck was abandoned. We believed him, even stood and chatted with him for a bit. He seemed friendly and genuine. We parted ways, and we figured we'd never see him again."

"That's kind of what he did to us." Rick admitted. Jesus had seemed a lot more harmless when Rick and Daryl first encountered him. "Didn't realize he swiped our keys when he ran into us."

"Well, he did worse to us." Jack explained. "Somehow he followed us, or knew where we were going... We drove the truck down the road to another store, and he ran up out of nowhere, grabbed a huge bag of knives out of the back of the truck, and ran off through the woods. 'Course nobody had beaten his ass or broken his arm that day, so he ran fuckin' fast. We chased him for probably a half hour before admitting he was fully out of sight and giving up on finding him."

Rick nodded as he continued listening. It didn't seem like Jesus would need a huge bag of knives if he really was all alone. Of course, Rick couldn't blame the man for lying about being part of a larger group. Daryl and Rick had done the same thing. And while Rick could agree that Paul was wrong for stealing supplies from these people, he couldn't agree with the way Jack and his men were reacting. Paul clearly wasn't the most ethical person in the world, but he wasn't a bad person, and didn't deserve to be hurt like this just for taking a bag of knives.

"So we were a half-hour run away from our truck, out in the middle of the woods, and to be honest, we were kind of lost. This little prick seemed to know the woods, to an extent. He ran like he knew just where he was going. He wasn't just running for his life. He was goin' somewhere. And by following him, we got ourselves lost. He got us lost." Jack scowled down at Paul and clenched his hands into fists as though contemplating punching the already unconscious man.

"We were lost, and didn't have our knives." Jack continued. "Long story short, there were eight of us when we went into the woods, and seven when we finally came back out. This little son of a bitch, who has the audacity to call himself Jesus, as though he's some sort of fuckin' saint, made a selfish decision that got my friend killed."

Rick could have argued in Paul's defense. He could have told Jack that he didn't know Paul's story. He didn't know if the man needed the knives for a larger group. That didn't make the fact that he'd stolen them from another group okay, but it made it a little less selfish. Rick would have probably done the same, if his family needed protection. He could have also argued the point that Paul's nickname, Jesus, probably stemmed more from his appearance than his personality. He also remembered Paul mentioning that his friends called him that. He didn't come up with the name. His friends did. But Rick couldn't speak up in Paul's defense just yet, not if he wanted Jack to trust that Rick and Daryl were on his side.

"What's your plan then?" Rick finally asked, both changing the subject as well as gathering information. "This guy's done a few things he needs to pay for. I get that... But how far is this going to escalate?"

"What do you mean?" Jack cocked his head to the side. "You starting to feel sorry for him or something? What do you care?"

Rick shrugged. "Hey, I don't care what happens to him. That's why I left him tied up along the road. If I was looking out for his interests, I would have at least stashed him out of the reach of the walkers. I just figure if we're going to go with a more hands-on approach like this, why drag it out? He seems like he's pretty hurt already. What more do you want to do to him?"

"Rick, we're just getting started." Jack smirked. "The man we lost, Thomas was a dear friend to each person in my group, so each of us wants to avenge our friend, our brother, who this guy got killed. Maybe Scott got in a few good punches. I broke his arm, but what about the others? This man took something away from them too. Our little friend here owes a debt to each of them. We'll let him go when the score is settled, when each of my men feels he's properly avenged Thomas, and when you and Daryl feel you've paid him back for attempting to steal from you."

"That's fair enough." Rick nodded, though of course he did not really like the idea at all, and was certain he was going to do whatever he could to make sure things didn't go down like that.

"We won't kill him." Jack assured Rick. "You seem to be worried about that, but you don't need to be. We aren't killers. It's clear he needs a break from punishment right now, so we'll let him rest. We'll take turns watching him, and when he seems well enough, we'll let a few more of the guys take their turns doing whatever they need to do in order to feel right about this. We can give this guy all the rests he needs in between, but I won't feel right letting him go until each of my men feels right. After we each let off a little steam, we'll let the guy go. No hard feelings. He'll be alright. We'll be alright. Everything'll be even."

Rick nodded in pseudo-agreement. "I'll be glad to take a shift watching him if you need me to." He offered, hoping Jack would accept the offer, but not wanting to appear too eager to be put in charge of the group's captive.

"Sure thing, Rick." Jack smiled. "When do you and Daryl normally sleep? We'll give you a shift when you'd have been awake anyway."

"Doesn't matter." Rick shrugged, but then wondered when would be the best time to sneak away. If he volunteered to keep watch over Paul while the men in this group were asleep, he and Daryl could take the opportunity to get themselves and the younger man out of there once and for all. Traveling at night wouldn't be the safest choice, but the longer they stayed here, the more likely things were going to go wrong. Rick couldn't believe Jack and his crew were still trusting enough to allow Daryl and Rick to keep their guns. They must have really hated Paul to care more about paying him back for his misdeeds than ensuring Rick and Daryl weren't up to something. "How about tonight? I don't usually go to bed until late anyway, and I know Daryl's a bit of a night owl too."

"You got a wrist watch, Rick? One that works? Pocket watch or anything?" Jack looked over toward him.

Rick raised his arm a bit. "Yeah." He answered.

"Good." Jack nodded. "You can watch him from about mid-night to three. Daryl can from three to six. You can confer with him and you or he can let me know if that doesn't work."

"That should work out fine." Rick nodded. Now he just needed to get a chance to speak to Daryl alone, and come up with a plan to end this nightmare. He only hoped Paul would stay unconscious until at least mid-night, because he had a feeling the young thief didn't want to wake up while under anyone's watch other than Rick's or Daryl's.

 **xxxxxx**


	7. Falsehood

_**Hi again, all. Thanks for coming back for my next chapter. Sorry if I'm being repetitive. That seems to be the main complaint I'm noticing in the reviews. I wrote this whole thing all at once and am only proof-reading and updating as I go, so I'll try to take out anything that seems repetitive if I catch it. I have a tendency to over-explain things sometimes I guess. I'm sorry for taking so long to update too. The show's season finale kinda put me out of the Walking Dead mood.**_

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 **Chapter 7**

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Jesus remained perfectly still, ignoring the constant throbbing pain in his arm, as he listened to the noises around him. He'd woken up a few hours earlier to find that his arms had been jerked sharply behind him and tied securely around a wooden beam of some sort. His ankles were bound as well, but not nearly as harshly as his wrists. In this position, he could barely move at all. He also found that he was on the floor of what was probably a basement - but he refused to open his eyes to check, so he had to settle on guessing. As long as he faked still being unconscious, perhaps no one would bother him.

As he listened to what was mostly silence, he couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that his body ached all over. The constant pain in his broken arm was the worst, but he was also plagued with a splitting headache. On top of that, his ribs ached where he'd been punched and kicked and he was certain he felt dried blood on his face, both on his cheek where he'd been punched a few times as well as running from his nose, over his split lip, and down his chin.

Jesus was no stranger to pissing off the wrong people. He'd been in situations similar to this before. Maybe not ever quite this dire, but close. He was confident he'd get out of this, with or without the help of the two men he'd met today. While he appreciated their help, he knew he didn't necessarily need it. In fact, he was already working on loosening the ropes around his arms. He just had to move carefully, so the man sitting on the stairs watching him wouldn't notice.

The sound of a door opening caught Jesus's attention. He remained still and slumped forward as though he'd still not woken up, as he listened.

"When's your shift over?" he heard a voice ask. It sounded like Matt's.

"About ten minutes," the other voice answered. "That new guy, Rich or something. He's taking over after me. I don't think this guy's gonna wake up any time soon though. Scott hit him so hard, I'm surprised he's not dead."

"Well, he is still alive, isn't he?" Matt wondered. "He's been out an awfully long time. Has anyone checked recently?"

"Yeah. I can see that he's breathing," The second voice responded. Jesus couldn't remember which of the men this voice belonged to. He didn't know them well enough to be able to place each voice. He only knew Matt's voice so well due to the very memorable threats he'd dished out earlier today.

Jesus did his best to remain calm as he heard footsteps coming down stairs and across the floor toward him. Since he'd been awake, no one had come near him. He felt the subtle vibrations of Matt's footfalls approaching him.

Within a few seconds, the man stood before him. Jesus heard the rustling of Matt's clothes as he squatted down. Jesus could even feel his breath on his face, and had to resist the urge to turn away. He felt Matt's hand grip a chunk of his hair and pull it back so that Jesus's head no longer hanged downward. He had to take extra care to avoid to wincing in pain at his hair being pulled, but remained still and expressionless, with his eyes closed.

"Mm hm. You're right," Matt's voice spoke. "He's alive, but Scott didn't go easy on him at all." Still holding Jesus's head back with a fist of his hair, Matt used his other hand to brush a thumb over the younger man's bruised and cut cheek. The touch hurt, but Jesus forced himself to stay still. "I want my go at him before anyone else goes. All those assholes upstairs are gonna accidentally kill him, so I'd like to have my fun while I can," he elaborated.

"Well, you're going to have to be patient," The voice still on the stairs spoke. "You could accidentally kill him too if you're not careful."

"I'll be careful," Matt promised. "What I have planned won't hurt him at all, really. Not unless he fights me about it."

"Why do you always wanna fuck everything with a pulse, Matt?" The other voice sounded somewhat disgusted. "You know he's going to fight back, and you know in that case you're going to lose your temper."

"I'm not gonna fuck him. I just want a blow job. That's not too much to ask, is it? It's nicer than what all the rest of y'all are going to do to him. At least mine will be quick and painless... Or at least, it could be. It's really up to him. I'm surprised the rest of you aren't jumping on this opportunity. Where else are you gonna get that out here?"

"I don't know, man," The guy on the stairs sighed. "I kinda think that until I find a hot woman, maybe I'll just do without. Also, I don't plan on trying to cram my dick down the throat of someone who's not willing. That's a good way to get a very painful and very permanent scar on a very sensitive area. I'd rather get bitten by the dead than get my dick bit off by the living," He said with a laugh.

"Well, he's pretty enough, and a mouth's a mouth. You wait for a woman, and especially one who's willing, and you're gonna be waiting forever. He won't bite me. Not if he knows what's good for him," Matt laughed, letting go of Paul's hair and letting his head drop back down. He patted his hand on top of his captive's head softly and then made his way back up toward he stairs. "You tell that new guy to come get me if this one wakes up," He ordered. "I'm getting tired of waiting. If Jack's new pals hadn't shown up when they did, I could've got what I wanted without a fight. He wasn't fighting back at all earlier. He was close to passing out. I could have done whatever I wanted. Now, when the time comes, I'm probably going to have to beat him a bit before he'll let me do what I need to do. Seems like every time I turn around, someone's complicating my plans."

It was difficult for Jesus to remain still, calm, and collected while listening to Matt make all these sick plans all within earshot. Nevertheless, he remained motionless. With any luck, he'd get out of here without having to deal with Matt again.

"I'll let Rich know to come find you if the prisoner wakes up. Go to sleep, Matt," The man on the stairs promised his friend.

Jesus wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when Matt finally left, and he actually did so when the second man left behind him a few minutes later.

As soon as he was sure he was alone, Jesus opened his eyes and looked around the basement. A battery-operated lamp sat at the bottom of the stairs, illuminating the room just enough for him to be able to look around and contemplate his options.

He continued working on loosening the ropes around his wrists, suppressing pained groans as he did so. He could feel his arm was a bit swollen and felt like someone was stomping on it constantly. As he worked on the ropes, he scanned the room some more. There was a small window up near the ceiling. He could fit through that, and there was a washer right under it, positioned just perfectly so he could climb on top of it to make his escape.

When he heard footsteps approaching the basement's door, Jesus let his body go limp once more, allowing his head to fall forward and resumed faking unconsciousness.

"If he gives you any problems, just yell out. If you've got to shoot him, maybe try not to make it lethal. Get his arm or leg. He should be pretty easy to deal with though, since he's tied up and knocked out. Wake up the next guy in three hours," The voice from before spoke as he and a second person entered the room.

Jesus listened silently as one set of feet made their way out of the basement. Someone closed the door and the other set of feet made their way down the stairs. It was probably Rick who was in the room with him now, but the man hadn't said anything, and Jesus really didn't know for sure if he could trust this man anyway, so he kept still and silent as the unknown person approached him.

Just as Matt had, this person bent down next to Paul, but examined him with more gentle hands, lifting his head carefully, with a hand under Jesus's chin rather than by yanking his head up using a chunk of his hair as a hand-hold.

Fingers ran over a welt forming on the side of Paul's temple and the person looming over him winced softly as though somehow feeling the pain Paul could not allow himself to outwardly react to.

Whoever was down in the basement with Jesus moved around to his hands next, possibly checking the ropes to ensure he was still securely tied down. He could feel the other man's hands pulling gently at the ropes, testing their strength and security and causing a fresh wave of pain to shoot through Jesus's arm.

Maybe he flinched at the pain, or maybe the fact that he'd been working on loosening the ropes around his wrists gave him away.

"You awake?" A low voice wondered near his ear. It sounded like Rick, which was most likely a good thing for Jesus's sake.

Jesus did not answer. He remained still.

"I know you're awake," Rick's voice remained very quiet. He probably didn't want anyone else in the house to hear the conversation. "The ropes around your wrists are loose. That didn't happen on its own."

Jesus still did not move or offer a reply. It was in his best interest to wait. If he could get himself free while Rick wasn't watching him so closely, he could wait until the man went to get the next person set to watch over him. During that brief moment when he remained un-watched, he could quickly slip the ropes off his ankles, jump up onto the washer, climb out the window, and make a run for it. Rick and Daryl seemed trustworthy, but Jesus trusted no one more than himself. He didn't need them or their possibly in-genuine promises.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your arm. I know Jack broke it earlier," Rick spoke again. "You don't have to pretend to be unconscious. I'm tryin' to help you out here, and it'd be a lot easier if you'd talk to me. I need to know how hurt you are. Can you walk?"

When Jesus still remained still and silent, Rick sighed as though annoyed and moved back to the ropes around the younger man's arms. Much to Jesus's surprise, Rick began untying them.

Jesus remained calm, un-moving as the ropes around his arms loosened. He let his arms hang loosely and limply once they were free and hoped Rick would untie his legs next.

Rick made his way around to squat in front of Jesus again. He reached back and took Jesus's hands in his, pulling them forward so they were resting on the younger man's lap rather than hanging awkwardly pulled back behind him.

It wasn't until Rick started pushing up the sleeve covering Paul's broken arm that the younger man decided the time to act had come. If Rick was going to be handling his arm, the faking unconsciousness gig wasn't going to last. The pain was too great. There was no way he could suppress a reaction to the man poking and prodding at the injury.

So Jesus moved quickly, shoving Rick backwards with both hands, wincing in the pain it caused, and immediately drawing his knees up to his chest so he could reach the ropes around his ankles and untie them as quickly as possible.

Jesus could tell Rick didn't appreciate that gesture, and when the man regained his bearings and moved back toward the younger of the two a second time, Jesus lashed out again, turning his body slightly to the side and throwing his elbow back toward the older man. Rick regained the upper-hand easily. Jesus was simply too drained and in too much pain to fight as well as he usually could. The older man grabbed both of Jesus's upper arms and pushed him back rather roughly against the wooden support beam he had been tethered to a moment before.

When Jesus groaned from the pain caused by the impact of his body with the pillar, Rick quickly slammed his hand over the other man's mouth.

"I said I'm trying to help you," Rick growled in a low voice. "Stop fighting me."

Jesus attempted to intake a few deep breaths, but Rick's hand over the lower portion of his face kept the other man's breaths short. Jesus reached up with his uninjured arm and pulled Rick's hand off his face so that he could take in more meaningful breaths. After an hour or so of faking unconsciousness, breathing only very carefully measured breaths, followed by the scuffle between him and Rick just now, Jesus certainly could have used a few good breaths.

"I know it's probably against your nature, but you're gonna have to trust me," Rick did not sound like he was in a good mood. "You don't want to know what's going to happen to you if we don't get you out of here soon."

Jesus stared at Rick and couldn't help but to pout. He did know pretty well what these men had in store for him. A whole lot of pain and degradation. But they weren't going to get that chance. If Rick really was on his side, Jesus was pretty much home-free now. He just needed to climb out the window and be done with this.

"All the more reason for me to get out of here while I can," Jesus raised his eyebrows toward Rick. "So, if you don't mind... I'm gonna go now." He reached toward the ropes around his legs and begun to untie them.

"Not so fast," Rick put his hand against Jesus's chest and pushed him back against the pillar. "We've got to wait for Daryl. He's going to meet us down here when he gets the chance, but until then, if someone else comes down here, you've got to appear to be tied up."

Jesus shook his head. "Huh uh," He refused. "Why don't I leave, and if someone comes down here, you appear to be knocked out? They can't get too mad at you if they think I hit you and escaped. If they come down here and I'm gone, worst case scenario - they'll be disappointed in you. If they come down here and I'm not gone, they'll probably end up killing me. I can't afford to wait on your friend to feel like coming down here."

"You need us, Paul," Rick balled his hand into a fist around a portion of Jesus's shirt, holding him firmly in place. "You're not gonna get far out there on your own."

"I've made it this long," Jesus shrugged, wondering if he should lash out, hit Rick, and make his break for it. All he needed to do was reach the window and get out of it before Rick caught up with him. He doubted the man would chase him down if it meant leaving Daryl behind. The only thing preventing him from doing that right now was the fact that his legs were still tied up. He wouldn't be able to untie himself and make it to the window before Rick caught him.

"You're not going yet," Rick persisted. "And if I have to knock you out again, myself, I will. Daryl and I came back here to help you. I'm not about to let you leave until the three of us can leave together."

Jesus exhaled tiredly as he felt his shoulders slump. "I told your friend I didn't need your help," He frowned. "If I were here by myself, without you, I could leave right now. So thanks for helping, Rick... Now instead of me escaping and you two taking my truck back to wherever you came from, all three of us are probably going to die."

"No," Rick countered. "If you were here alone, someone else would be watching you, and if they noticed you were awake, they would take that as a cue to start beating on you again, or worse. Your arms wouldn't be untied right now, and back in the woods when you tried to run and Scott was hitting you, no one would have stopped him."

"No one did," Jesus pouted. "He hit me until I lost consciousness."

"He might not have even stopped then if Daryl hadn't pulled him off of you," Rick scowled down at him. "You owe him. So hold still and wait. He'll be here. We escape together, or not at all."

Jesus stared at Rick, glanced down at the man's fist, which still gripped the front of his shirt, and then back up at Rick's eyes again. The man looked very determined, and Jesus knew he was right. If Rick and Daryl hadn't shown up when they did, and if they hadn't stood up for him the few times they had, Jesus would be nowhere near the point of orchestrating an escape from this.

Although it would be easy to claim Daryl wasn't his problem, he knew he did owe the man. Daryl had stood up for Jesus more than once now. Jesus owed it to Daryl to not leave the man behind. Though passing up the chance to make a run for it now that only Rick was watching him felt like a missed opportunity, Jesus could agree that him leaving now might cause Daryl and Rick issues if Jack's men found out.

"Fine," Jesus frowned. He couldn't help but flinch, however, when he heard the basement door opening.

Jesus quickly moved his hands back behind himself, grabbing up the ropes Rick had untied so no one could see that they were untied and thrown on the floor. He kept his hands stretched painfully back behind the pillar, to keep up the appearance that his arms were still bound and stared over Rick's shoulder as a bit of light flooded into the otherwise shadowy stairs.

"Who is it?" Rick whispered in a very low voice, so that only Jesus could hear him, as he kept his hand tightly gripped around the front of Jesus's shirt and leaned in very close, in a way Jesus would have almost interpreted as threatening if Rick hadn't previously indicated that he was on Jesus's side of this whole mess.

Jesus looked from Rick's stern, blue eyes to the top of the staircase, and then back at Rick. "It's Matt," He answered in an equally low whisper, feeling his heart sink as he said it. Matt was his least favorite of the men who'd taken him, for obvious reasons.

At this point, Jesus had to fight the urge to shove Rick back and make a move toward the window. With Matt now in the room too, Jesus's chance at escaping was slipping away. Against his better judgement, he remained still, trusting that Rick had the situation under control.

"Shit," Rick's voice was still very soft as he stared back at Jesus. "I'll take care of this. Don't try anything."

 **xxxxxx**


	8. Trusted Adversary

**xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 8**

 **xxxxxx**

With his hand still tightly gripping the front of Jesus's shirt, Rick held perfectly still, staring into Jesus's wide, pale eyes as the younger man looked over his shoulder. Jesus looked worried, and Rick didn't blame him, but if all went well, the young man would have nothing to fear. Rick hoped that Jesus wouldn't try to take matters into his own hands, and nothing would go wrong.

"He finally awake?" Matt's voice wondered from behind Rick as he made his way casually down the stairs.

Rick looked back at Jesus, who was staring silently back at him by this point. Fortunately, the way Rick loomed over the man, gripping his shirt and pushing him quite roughly back against the pillar could help keep up appearances with Matt. Rick likely looked threatening more than anything else.

"Don't you move," Rick growled toward Jesus as both a serious warning and as a front to keep Matt under the impression that Rick and Jesus were by no means friendly with each other. Rick stood and turned around. "I've got this under control," He told Matt.

"I told Will to have you come get me if he woke up," Matt noted, glancing down at Jesus. "Did he not tell you?"

Rick shook his head. "It's fine," He put his hand carefully on Matt's arm and attempted to lead him back toward the stairs. "I'm watching over him until three and Daryl's shift is after mine. We'll keep him securely tied down, so he's not going anywhere."

Matt shrugged away from Rick's hand and refused to be led away. "I can watch him for a while," Matt offered. "I wanted to have some time alone with him anyway," He looked past Rick and at Jesus, who simply stared silently back at him.

Rick shook his head. "Matt," He started, keeping his voice calm, but firm. "It's not your shift."

"That's not how this works. You and your friend are second priority in this," Matt scowled at him. "You already interrupted me twice. It's my turn now."

Matt shoved past Rick and began making his way toward Jesus, who flinched back against the support pillar. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was a few seconds from blowing Rick's cover. If Jesus made a run for it now, it would quickly become clear that Rick had untied his hands.

"No," Rick persisted, reaching out, grabbing Matt's arm and pulling him back. "We already talked about this," Rick stared at Matt, keeping his hand firmly on the larger man's chest and moving himself between the angry, bulky man and Jesus.

"Get out of my way, Rick," Matt clenched his hands in fists and stared back. "You don't have to have any part in it. I don't care. But if seeing this little son of a bitch on his knees, with my dick in his mouth bothers you that much, maybe you can wait upstairs. Won't take me more than fifteen minutes if he cooperates, and once I'm done, you and Daryl can do whatever you want to him."

"No," Rick said again. "The line's gotta be drawn somewhere. I won't let you do that."

"I'm not asking for your permission, Rick," Matt shoved Rick back.

Rick stumbled back a few feet, careful to avoid trampling on Jesus's legs as the younger men drew them up against his chest to keep himself from being stepped on. Rick regained his footing and stared back at Matt.

"You've got one more chance to turn around and walk back up those stairs," Rick growled. "I'm not asking you again."

Matt hesitated for a moment as he stood in front of Rick. "I'd like to know when the fuck you were put in charge of this. Jack made me a promise, that I'd be given time with this guy, to do whatever I needed to do to make what happened to Thomas right. I was told as long as I didn't kill him, I could do whatever I wanted. Wasn't 'til you arrived that all these damn limitations started popping up out of fucking nowhere. You don't care if Jack breaks the guy's arm. You don't care if Scott beats him until he's got blood dripping down his face and he's lying unconscious in the god damn dirt... but I can't have one quick, simple, painless blow job? Your idea of what's harmful and what isn't is really fucking flawed, Rick."

"I'm not arguing with you, Matt," Rick persisted. "What you want to do is sick. It's not happening. End of story."

With what could almost be described as a literal growl, Matt dove right at Rick, wrapping his arms around Rick's torso and tackling him roughly to the ground.

Rick was quick to start fighting back. Though he had his gun on him, he really didn't want to use it just yet. He still needed to stay on Jack's good side, and while maybe the man could forgive him for getting into a fight with Matt, he'd likely not be so forgiving if Matt ended up shot, so Rick stuck to using only his fists, for the time-being at least.

Matt threw a harsh punch at Rick's face, before Rick threw one right back, knocking Matt back off of him long enough for Rick to climb up off the ground. He was still only in a sort of half-standing position, however, when Matt lunged at him again, throwing him back to the floor.

"You're not in charge here," Matt yelled at him, punching him pretty hard across his jaw, and then again toward his eye, causing Rick's vision to grow spotty.

Rick punched the guy back, but the fact of the matter was that Matt was quite a bulky man. Throwing the larger man's body off of him wasn't coming easy for Rick, and the longer he stayed pinned under the man, the more damage Matt was able to inflict. Rick finally gave in and reached for his gun. Perhaps ending this in a death threat, or in Matt's actual death were his only options.

Matt must have noticed Rick's hand reaching down toward his holstered weapon, because before Rick had a chance to arm himself, Matt's large hand was gripping Rick's forearm, preventing him from doing so. With his other hand, Matt made a fist and punched Rick across the face yet again.

Just when Rick figured he may have made a huge mistake in not reaching for his gun sooner, he saw a flash of movement to his right, followed by Matt's weight being lifted off of him.

Breathing in a pained wince, Rick dragged himself up off the floor in time to see Jesus had tackled Matt to the ground. Since Rick was no match for the man, it was clear that Jesus, being smaller and already injured, was not going to stand a chance against him either.

It took a mere moment for Matt to throw Jesus to the ground, punching him harshly against the ribs so that Jesus cried out a pained groan.

Rick was quick to rush to Jesus's aid. Perhaps they were no match for Matt individually, but together, they'd stand a chance. He took a second to retrieve his gun before taking a few steps forward toward the other two men.

Just as Rick was about to pull Matt up off of Jesus, however, the larger man stood, roughly yanking Jesus up off the ground with him, gripping the man's broken arm in a hard fist and squeezing it cruelly. He dragged Jesus in front of him and turned to face Rick. "Back off," Matt demanded.

Rick lowered his gun when he noticed Matt held a knife up to Jesus's throat. Jesus squeezed his eyes shut and remained still as he gasped shaking, pained breaths.

"I don't care if I kill him," Matt threatened, pushing his knife threateningly against Jesus's neck. "Get out of here, Rick. Give me fifteen damn minutes. That's all I ask."

Rick remained still as he stared toward Matt and Jesus. Of course he didn't want Matt to deliver on his threats and kill the younger man right here in front of him, but leaving Jesus alone with Matt was certainly not what he wanted either.

"I will seriously fucking kill him," Matt reminded Rick once more when Rick made no indication that he was going to comply with the other man's request. "If I can't have what I want, I don't care about anything else. I'll cut his fucking throat and let him bleed out right here on the floor. Is that what you want? It's the end of the world if he has to suck dick for five minutes, but you're okay with his throat getting cut? Is that it?"

Silently, Rick stared toward Jesus, whose eyes were now open. The younger man looked at him pleadingly, but with a hint of question in his eyes as well. It almost seemed like Jesus was trying to silently ask Rick if he had this under control. It was likely Jesus was seconds away from taking matters into his own hands, risking getting his throat cut in the process. He was watching Rick closely, wondering if the older man was going to be able to get him out of this, or if he should fight back, risk being cut, and just attempt to get himself out of this mess by any means possible.

Rick didn't know what the best solution to this threat would be. He didn't have to think about it for long though. It seemed he had two obvious choices - keep fighting and likely cause Matt kill Jesus, or leave Jesus to be assaulted by Matt, sparing the young man's life, but allowing Matt to inflict horrible pain and degradation. He was not willing to agree to either choice. So he raised his arm back up, pointing his gun toward Matt. If Jesus was doomed either way, Rick figured he might as well give the man a chance.

"Get that fucking gun off of me," Matt demanded, shaking Jesus roughly in front of him for emphasis, and clearly hurting the younger man's arm in the process.

Jesus winced, but kept his eyes open this time, clearly wanting to remain aware of his surroundings.

"You're not in charge here either, Matt," Rick reminded the larger man. "I don't think Jack'll be happy if you kill this guy before everyone's done with him."

"Woah, guys! Hold up," Rick looked up toward the basement door to see Jack had opened it and was standing in the doorway, staring down at the scene. The scuffle between Rick and Matt and then between Jesus and Matt must have been loud enough to be overheard. Jack began making his way down the stairs. His hands were raised in defense and he shook his head as though Rick and Matt were his children and he was tasked with settling their childish dispute. "I knew I'd probably have trouble with you two."

"I get to have a go at this guy, right?" Matt seemed desperate as he pleaded with his leader. He kept a tight hold on Jesus's arm and continued pressing his knife threateningly against the younger man's neck.

Jack nodded slowly, looking from Rick to Matt. "Everyone will get their turn," He promised. "You two want to tell me what the problem is here?"

"Rick's trying to control everything... Trying to make sure we all treat our little friend Jesus here like our god damned house guest," Matt complained. "I didn't know when we found him that we were taking him back here so we could just give him hugs and fucking cupcakes. I thought the whole point was that we wanted to beat a little sense into him and make him suffer for what he did to us."

Jack looked toward Rick with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought we agreed out on the road," Rick began in as calm a voice as he could manage, "that none of us are rapists. And I was under the impression that Daryl and I would get some time of our own with him, to make things right for ourselves. You told me I was guarding him until three, so I assumed the time was mine to spend how I choose."

Nodding slowly, Jack looked from Rick to Matt, with narrowed eyes. "I think it's fair to let Rick and Daryl take their turn first," Jack decided. "Matt, it seems like you're a lot more angry than they are. It only makes sense that we save the most violent of us for last... Just in case."

"I'm not being violent," Matt growled, squeezing Jesus's broken arm tight enough to elicit a sharp wince from the smaller man. "I'm the only one here _not_ wanting to get violent with this little prick."

"No one's being violent _except_ you, Matt," Jack noticed.

Rick stared silently at Matt, not wanting to say anything more now that it seemed Jack hopefully had the situation under control. Matt's hand, still gripping the knife which was pressed threateningly against Jesus's throat, shook slightly.

"We can make a compromise here, Matt," Jack suggested, glancing at Rick before continuing. "I know you don't like the idea, but Thomas was Matt's friend too, and Matt deserves to pay this man back and avenge his friend however he sees fit. How about we agree that you and Daryl can have your time first, but we can't restrict how Matt wants to take his revenge."

Rick swallowed hard as he made eye contact with Jesus, who had thankfully had the good sense to hold still through all of this. With any luck, it wouldn't matter what Rick agreed to let Matt do to the younger man. If he and Daryl could have just a few minutes alone with Jesus, they could all make their escape, and Matt wouldn't get a chance to do anything more.

"That okay with you, Rick?" Jack asked when he noticed Rick hadn't responded.

After a second more hesitation, Rick nodded. "As long as Daryl and I get our shot at him first. And I'd appreciate some privacy," He added, glaring in Matt's direction.

"That's fair," Jack looked toward Matt. "Could you go get Daryl, Matt? After Rick and Daryl have a bit of time, you'll be free to do whatever you want."

Matt looked from Jack to Rick, and then back to Jack again. "Fine," He agreed, shoving Jesus toward Jack and making his way back up the stairs.

"Let's get you tied back up," Jack spoke to Jesus, dragging the smaller man back toward the support pillar. Fortunately, Jesus did not fight Jack on this, and while it could have very likely looked suspicious that Jesus was no longer fighting, Jack didn't seem to notice. He pushed Jesus down onto the floor and moved around back to his arms, which he forced back behind him. Jesus winced, but remained compliant. "How'd you get free anyway?" Jack wondered as he finished up tying the man's wrists tightly together behind the wooden pillar.

Jesus looked up toward Rick, who shook his head slightly, silently requesting that Jesus not mention that Rick untied him.

"Hm?" Jack, still squatting behind Jesus, leaned around, putting his hand threateningly around Jesus's throat. "You untie yourself, kid? How'd you manage that?"

"I've been down here for hours, Jack," Jesus answered, looking toward Rick as he spoke.

Jack simply laughed and stood up, patting Jesus's shoulder and looking down at him. "You're a cunning little fucker. I'll give you that. Don't kill him, Rick," He added as he made his way over to the stairs. "There's a lot of fun still to be had for the rest of us."

Jesus's shoulders slumped as he stared up toward Rick. As soon as Jack had made his way up out of the basement and closed the door behind him, the younger man spoke up, in a very low voice. "Will you please let me leave now?" Jesus sighed heavily.

"Once Daryl gets here," Rick commented. "We're almost out of the woods. Just be patient."

Jesus exhaled loudly and leaned back against the pillar, closing his eyes tiredly.

"Thanks for defending me," Rick commented, looking down at Jesus and frowning. He felt awful about how he others were treating the young man, but knew he couldn't stand up for him much more than he already had without raising suspicion. "You could'a just let us fight it out, but you stepped in. I appreciate it."

Jesus nodded, but kept his eyes closed. "That wasn't a fight you were gonna win on your own, Rick," Jesus said simply.

Rick smiled very slightly."You still didn't have to help me," He noted. "Matt could have killed you."

"He could have killed you too," Jesus opened his eyes and looked up at Rick. "He only attacked you because you stood up for me, which you didn't have to do either. Consider us even."

Rick nodded. At this point, he supposed, he, Daryl, and Jesus were all three in this mess together. Now he knew that Jesus felt the same way. The younger man may have even been able to use Matt and Rick's altercation as a distraction and make his escape then, but he didn't. He risked his own safety for Rick's sake.

"We'll be even when we all three get out of here," Rick promised.

 **xxxxxx**


	9. Break Away

**Hey everyone. Sorry for the delay. I've been really busy. I'm going to try to upload all the rest of the chapters today, while I have time. They may not be entirely proof-read, but I fear if I don't finish this now I might not finish it at all. It's all written, so I might as well publish it all. Sorry again for making you wait so long.**

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 9**

 **xxxxxx**

Daryl nodded toward Jack as he made his way toward the basement door. A few moments before, Matt had come and informed Daryl that it was his and Rick's turn to have a go at Jesus. Matt seemed angry. Daryl felt nervous as he made his way toward the basement. He hoped he and Rick weren't intended to have an audience for this. The last thing he wanted was to have to actually hurt Jesus in order to keep up appearances. Playing along wasn't so hard when all he had to do was act like he didn't care about someone else beating the guy up. Having to actually prove that he wanted to hurt the man too wasn't something he was really eager for.

"Rick said he wanted the two of you to have a little privacy, so we'll be right here," Jack offered. Daryl wanted to breathe a sigh of a relief at Jack's words. This meant there would be no need to actually harm the younger man. No one would know that Rick and Daryl weren't really hurting him. "If things start going south for you, just call out. We'll be in there in a matter of seconds. I don't expect that you'll have any issue with him though."

"Thanks," Daryl opened the door and stepped onto the basement stairs.

"Have fun," Matt grumbled bitterly.

Daryl nodded, closing the door behind him and making his way down the stairs.

He was greeted with the sight of Rick, standing almost protectively over Jesus, who was bound to a support pillar in the center of the room. Jesus looked exhausted and was in obvious pain as he stared up toward Daryl.

Rick didn't speak until Daryl made his way up closer to him. Even then, he spoke only in whispers. "We're gonna have to make this quick," Rick noted. "This might be the only chance we get, and if we don't get him out of here now, things are gonna get real dark, real fast."

Daryl nodded, glancing down toward Jesus who stared back up at him with a frown and raised eyebrows. Jesus looked a bit more scuffed up than the last time Daryl had seen him. Daryl looked up toward Rick, noticing the former cop looked a bit scuffed up too. He had a darkening bruise on his jaw and a cut on his cheek.

"What happened?" Daryl wondered, frowning and narrowing his eyes.

"Matt," Rick explained very simply.

Daryl nodded, glancing back down toward Jesus again before making eye contact with Rick again. "He didn't..." Daryl hesitated. Maybe he didn't want to know the answer to what he was about to ask. He looked down at Jesus and frowned. The man looked like he'd been through hell.

"No," Rick answered the unasked question anyway. "But we need to get out of here, now, or we're gonna stop being so lucky."

"What's the plan?" Daryl wondered, looking back up at Rick.

"We go out that window," Rick whispered, nodding toward a window high up on the basement's wall. Without any hesitation, Rick knelt down and began working on untying Jesus's wrists. "We gotta do this fast, and do it right," Rick commented.

Daryl knelt in front of the younger man and began untying the ropes around his ankles. "You good to walk, man?" He wondered, looking up toward Jesus's eyes.

"Yeah," Jesus answered, though his voice sounded weak.

"Let's go then," Daryl stood, offering his hand down to Jesus and pulling him to his feet.

Rick nodded carefully, keeping his hand securely on Jesus's arm as though fearful that the younger man might make a run for it if he got the chance. "Alright, Daryl, you go out first," The former cop gestured toward the basement's window, which was positioned over an old washing machine. "Paul will follow, and you need to make sure he doesn't run off. He's perhaps a little too confident for his own good."

Daryl glanced toward Jesus who shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes. He could tell the younger man was annoyed by having Rick organize his escape for him. If what Jesus had said to Daryl earlier was any indication, he was used to looking out for himself and didn't really appreciate being offered help he didn't want. Even so, Daryl could see that Jesus needed their help, whether he could admit it or not. Maybe he could slip out the window on his own, but would he able to make it all the way back to wherever he called home when earlier he seemed almost too hurt to walk? On his own, Jesus could end up dead over something as small as a couple walkers catching up to him. Until he saw a doctor and perhaps got in a good rest, Jesus just didn't seem fit to be out on his own.

"Let's make this quick, but keep it quiet," Rick ordered.

Daryl climbed up onto the washer as quietly as he could manage. Carefully, he opened the window and pulled himself up and out. When he was outside again, he breathed a sigh of relief. The cool, crisp air of the early morning felt refreshing after being in that stuffy house with all those people for so long.

He knelt down so he could help Jesus and Rick climb out next.

Jesus moved somewhat slowly, which was to be expected considering his broken arm. It was quite likely he had cracked ribs and possibly even a concussion after all that rage Scott took out on him in the woods earlier as well. Daryl could see climbing up onto the washer took a lot of effort on Jesus's part, and could see each stretch or movement was causing the younger man discomfort.

While Daryl had been able to use both of his arms to pull himself up, Jesus could not do the same without further hurting himself. When he attempted to ignore the injury and use both arms anyway, Jesus winced and quickly pulled his arm back, taking a moment to psych himself up before reaching his arms up again. Un-shed tears shone in the other man's eyes as he looked up toward Daryl but continued trying to escape unaided.

"Gimme your hand," Daryl demanded.

Jesus ignored him and continued trying to pull himself up, wincing as he did so. He clearly didn't want to accept that fact that he was too injured to save himself at this point, but Daryl wasn't ready for Jesus's pride to get them all killed.

Shaking his head, Daryl reached down and grabbed Jesus's arm. He wasn't going to make progress fast enough on his own. Daryl didn't care if Jesus wanted help. He clearly needed it.

Just as Daryl gripped the younger man's uninjured arm and prepared to pull him up out of the window, the three men heard the sound of the basement door creaking open.

"Hurry it up," Rick growled in a low but urgent voice.

Jesus winced as he put pressure on his injured arm in an attempt to help Daryl help him.

"What the hell's going on down here?" An angry voice called out from below. "Jack, get down here!"

Daryl noticed Jesus glance back behind himself before looking back up toward Daryl with wide eyes and putting more effort than ever into pulling himself up out of the window. The younger man hissed in pain as he put pressure on his broken arm again and as Daryl tugged him up by his other arm.

As Daryl pulled Jesus up out of the window, the two of them fell back onto the grass. Daryl quickly shoved Jesus out of the way and scrambled back over to the window, ready to help Rick.

It seemed to be too late, however. Two of the men, Matt and Will were on Rick already, pulling him back away from the window. Before Rick had a chance to reach for his gun, Matt had grabbed it. Daryl reached for his own gun, only to find it was no longer there.

He turned toward where Jesus had fallen, but the younger man wasn't there. He'd run off the first chance he had gotten, and had obviously taken Daryl's gun with him.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered under his breath, glancing back toward the window in time to see Jack looking up at him. By now, four of the men had made their way to the basement. Rick was out numbered and now unarmed.

"If you don't want your buddy here to get shot, you better get your ass back in here," Jack growled, staring at Daryl but gesturing toward Rick, who was on his knees with his arms held firmly by two of Jack's men. At some point Jack had taken Rick's gun from Matt was and now pointing it threateningly toward the former cop. "Go around front if you must, but if you're not down here in thirty seconds, Rick's life ends, right here."

Daryl swallowed a lump in his throat, but nodded in agreement. He wasn't sure how he was going to get himself and Rick out of this when they were both unarmed, but he had to try. He couldn't abandon his friend.

He stood up straight, glancing around the area for a brief moment in hopes of perhaps spotting Jesus before making his way around to the front of the house. He didn't spot the gun-thief, but he did spot something else potentially useful - a single walker shuffling toward him.

Narrowing his eyes, Daryl grabbed at the undead corpse, struggling with it for a moment before pinning its arms behind its back and gripping its neck tightly so it couldn't turn its head toward him. He quickly dragged the rotten, putrid thing up the steps with him and made his way into the house. Fortunately, no one was in the first room, so no one saw him arriving with his decaying friend.

If still only four of the men were downstairs, perhaps Daryl leaving the walker upstairs with the remaining three could take out one or a few of the men so he and Rick would have fewer opponents to worry about once they made it out of the basement. Probably not, but it was worth a try.

He shoved the walker harshly down the hall before slipping into the basement, quickly closing the door behind him, and making his way cautiously down the stairs

"Hands up," Jack ordered. Daryl complied and let the man pat him down. Jack took his knife and continued looking for his gun. "Where is it?" he asked, looking up toward Daryl and assuming the man knew what he was referring to.

"That little prick took it," Daryl growled. By this point, he was pretty frustrated and angry at everyone on the planet. Even Rick, and even himself. He was aggravated with Rick due to the other man insisting they come back to save a guy who wouldn't pay them the same respect, and he was aggravated with himself for allowing it.

Jack shook his head and shoved Daryl onto his knees next to Rick. "I told you... I told you both. I should have known better. I knew it was odd that you drove off and only came back when we came out of the woods. I knew something seemed off with you two."

Daryl looked toward Rick, wondering if the other man had a plan. Daryl sure as hell didn't.

"So let me get this straight," Jack scowled down at them. "You two acted like you were with us - ready to teach this lying little thief a lesson... but then you waited for the chance and just let him go? Kind of ironic that as you helped him escape, since you obviously think he's such a sweet guy, he fucking robbed you again."

Neither Daryl nor Rick spoke.

"Why were the two of you so determined to help this guy?" Jack looked legitimately confused. He must not have understood the concept of being a decent human being. "He clearly wouldn't do the same for you."

Both Rick and Daryl knew better than to argue. If the punishment for stealing knives included being beaten, threatened with sexual assault, and a broken arm, the punishment for helping a criminal escape could quite likely be just as harsh. Nothing they said was going to make Jack or his men forgive them.

"Bet you're starting to see this our way now," Matt laughed. "Too bad you fucked up already."

Daryl felt himself tense. If these men were willing to beat Jesus to within an inch of his life for stealing, what would they do to Rick and Daryl for letting the man go? Was their crime perceived as worse than Jesus's? Perhaps the blame for everything Jesus had done would be transferred onto them since they were the reason the younger man had gotten away...

Jack shook his head, "What are we gonna do with you guys?"

"Well, someone's sucking my dick," Matt laughed.

Jack scowled at his friend, "Would you give that a god damned rest? No one is sucking your dick. The hell's wrong with you?"

Daryl remained motionless as he listened to their captors argue. Perhaps if he and Rick just held still long enough, these guys would start throwing punches at each other.

Just as it looked like Matt might be ready to start arguing with Jack, a piercing scream from upstairs interrupted the moment.

"Watch these two," Jack instructed as he bounded up the stairs.

Three of the men, who Daryl remembered as being named Matt, Ciaran, and Will remained downstairs. Jack had taken the gun, so there was no reason for Daryl and Rick to remain compliant anymore.

Briefly, Daryl made eye contact with his friend. Rick gave a very subtle nod before shooting to his feet and pulling a knife out from somewhere. Rick must not have been searched as extensively as Daryl had.

Daryl leaped up to his feet as well, catching the man behind him off-guard. He punched the man, Will, hard across the face, but before he got a chance to do much more damage, someone was tackling him from behind.

As Daryl struggled to throw the third man, Ciaran, off of him, he observed a few things of interest going on around him. For one, Will had produced a knife and was coming at him with it. And perhaps more important was what was going on between Rick and Matt to his right. Matt charged at Rick quickly, seemingly unaware that the smaller man gripped a knife in his fist.

As Daryl kicked out, throwing Will back a few feet, Rick plunged his knife into Matt's neck. The larger man went down immediately, gripping his neck as blood seeped between his fingers and down the front of his shirt.

Daryl threw his elbow back against Ciaran, who grunted and produced a knife of his own. While Daryl tackled Ciaran and attempted to wrestle the knife away from him, Rick took care of Will, stabbing the other man in the gut and disarming him at the same time.

Daryl grabbed at Ciaran's hand so that they both had some amount of control over the knife the other man still gripped. Somehow, Daryl managed to force the other man's hand down so that the knife's blade sunk into Ciaran's chest. As soon as the other man's grip loosened, Daryl claimed the knife and finished the job.

Out of breath, Daryl stood, offering a hand down to Rick who had just finished of Will. By this point, both men were covered in a fair amount of blood, though fortunately none of it was their own.

"Let's go," Daryl nodded toward the window.

Rick nodded in agreement, but before they followed through with that plan, something upstairs caught Daryl's attention.

He heard one gunshot, which was undoubtedly necessary to put down the walker he'd released upstairs. But a second, a third, and a fourth gunshot, followed by a whole lot of movement and yelling caused him concern.

Rick glanced upstairs and then back at Daryl.

"You think Paul came back?" Rick wondered.

Daryl shrugged. He didn't know. "I doubt them guys are shooting at each other up there..."

Without even having to talk it over this time, Daryl and Rick made their way toward the stairs. If Jesus had returned to help them, they had a moral obligation to help him too.

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	10. Jesus Saves

_**NOTE: As with a few of the chapters before, this one jumps back a little in time, so it doesn't start immediately where the last left off, time-wise. This chapter takes place during part of the previous one, and onward, only follows Jesus. I know my readers don't like being told the same story twice, but Jesus and Daryl parted ways and I wanted to tell you guys where Jesus ran off to... The overlap is kind of necessary if you want to know the full story in this case.**_

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 **Chapter 10**

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With a wince, Jesus landed on top of Daryl and they both fell back onto the ground as the other man pulled him up out of the basement's window. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next, as some of the men who'd captured him were in the basement with Rick now, and the other two men, Rick and Daryl seemed to want some degree of control over him. Jesus didn't like any of that, so he quickly grabbed Daryl's gun out of its holster before the other man could notice.

Daryl shoved Jesus out of the way and moved back toward the window, no doubt to help Rick escape.

For a moment, Jesus wasn't sure what he should do. He couldn't help Rick much, and Rick didn't need his help when he had Daryl's. He also certainly didn't want to risk being caught again. The men knew he had escaped, and could very likely be on their way outside to reclaim him. He didn't have to think about it long before deciding what to do. Still gripping Daryl's gun, he rushed off as quickly as he could.

Since he still didn't feel so well, he stopped at the barn on the property, using it as a temporary shelter. It would do the job of hiding him until he was able to regain a bit of strength.

For a few minutes, he stayed in the darkness of the barn, listening for any indication that his captors were out searching for him, but he heard nothing. No one seemed to be out looking for him, which was odd. He peaked out a crack in the barn's door in time to see Daryl, all alone, making his way back toward the front door of the house. That meant Rick hadn't made it out and Daryl was forced to either leave his friend or surrender himself. Then it occurred to Jesus that perhaps the anger the men felt toward him was now reassigned to the guys who'd helped him escape.

As much as Jesus would have liked to think he could have gotten out of this situation on his own, he wasn't really so sure that was true. Pulling himself up out of the window while one of his arms was broken hadn't been easy. If Daryl hadn't helped, he might not have been able to make it. And then, of course, as Rick had said earlier, if the two men weren't there, someone else would have been watching over Jesus, making sure he didn't get the chance to escape that Rick and Daryl freely gave him. It was quite likely no one else in this group would have kept Matt away from him either.

Though it would have been easier, and safer for Jesus's sake, to leave Daryl and Rick to fend for themselves, he knew he had to go back. They were depending on him, just as he had depended on them over the past hours.

He simply didn't feel right leaving them behind. Whether he had asked for their help or not, he did accept it, and he owed them some gratitude. Both Rick and Daryl had stood up for Jesus many more times than they ever had to. When Jesus attempted to reclaim the truck from them, they hadn't really hurt him more than they had to to fight him off. They could have easily hurt him much worse or killed him, as they were armed and he wasn't... but they had pretty much let him go, and left him unharmed. They gave him a second chance, and even returned for him when they saw he was in danger. They certainly had no obligation to do that either, nor did they owe it to him to stick around and defend him from these men time and time again. They were good people, and didn't deserve to be abandoned to an uncertain, yet likely violent fate.

Gripping Daryl's gun tightly in his hand, Jesus inhaled a bracing breath and then slowly and carefully made his way back toward the house.

Just before he made it to the steps, he heard a scream, followed by a struggle and the sound of feet sprinting up the basement stairs. Jesus froze, hoping those feet continued down the hall away from the front door. And they did. He in-took another calming breath and then made his way slowly up onto the front porch.

Before he re-entered the house, Jesus put his ear up to the door. He could hear people moving around and talking, and could swear he heard a struggle going on down in the basement. That's where Rick and Daryl surely were. He needed to get to them before it was too late.

He carefully opened the door in time to see a few of the men struggling with one of the dead that had somehow managed to get itself inside the previously cleared house. One of the men, whose name Jesus did not remember was holding his hand over a profusely bleeding wound. Jack, who held the gun that had previously been Rick's shot the walker, and then his friend, clearly not wanting to waste time nursing a wound that could not be healed.

Jesus swallowed a lump in his throat. If Jack was at the point where he'd mercy-kill his own friend without even asking the man if that's what he wanted, things did not look good for Rick and Daryl's sake, or for Jesus's, for that matter, if the men managed to catch him again.

It looked like there were three men upstairs now, not including the one Jack had just put down. That meant the other three were down in the basement with Rick and Daryl.

"Don't move," Jack's angry voice demanded as he noticed Jesus near the door and pointed his gun at him.

Jesus pointed his gun right back.

"You're outnumbered, you little prick," Jack growled. "Drop the gun, or I'll drop you. No one else has to die."

Jesus did not waver. He knew better than to trust this guy's word, and he certainly didn't often have the luxury of being armed with a loaded gun. He wasn't going to just give that up for a promise he was certain would not be kept.

Jack must not have appreciated Jesus's refusal to cooperate. A look of anger flashed across the man's face followed by the sound of a gunshot, which Jesus sort of saw coming. He dodged out of the line of fire, behind a wall and held his gun tightly, listening intently to the sound of footfalls as Jack made his way down the hall.

"Get back here!" Jack yelled, though he surely didn't expect Jesus to comply with that request.

Before Jack would have the upper-hand, Jesus peered around the corner, raising his gun and preparing to fire. Unfortunately, Jack had sent two of his men before himself. Jesus was out-numbered indeed, needing to get rid of three people now before he could go to the aid of Rick and Daryl. Without a second thought, he shot at the first man, and then aimed toward the second, Scott, who was yelling some sort of battle cry while charging right at him. Before he could fire again, the man tackled him to the ground, but Jesus kept his grip on the gun and fought to regain control of the situation.

By then, Jack had also caught up with him. He didn't even bother trying to wrestle the gun away, but instead hauled Jesus up off the ground and then hit him hard across the face.

Jesus staggered back, caught off-guard long enough for Jack to reach out and snatch the gun right out of his hand. He handed it off to his remaining friend, Scott.

By this point, Jesus's back was literally and figuratively against the wall. The two men pointed guns down at him, a scene which strangely mirrored what he'd encountered earlier today with Rick and Daryl. Except this time, he was not nearly as optimistic. Rick and Daryl just wanted him to stop following them. These guys were out for violent revenge.

Raising his hands in defense, Jesus stared back at his aggressors as he breathed in pained breaths.

"We should just kill him, Jack," Scott spoke in a low growl. "He's not worth it. We already lost three men because of this bastard."

Jack neither agreed nor disagreed with this idea. He remained silent, staring at Jesus and holding Rick's gun firmly out in front of him.

"And we need to get rid of those other two," Scott added. "I'm done with this. At this point, I don't care if anyone learns any damn lessons. I want all three of them dead."

As if on cue, Rick and Daryl quietly emerged from the basement, fortunately quiet enough so that Jack and Scott did not hear them. The door to the basement was further down the hall. Jesus was facing toward it, so he could see the men, but his captors could not.

Jesus did his best to keep his facial expression neutral as he briefly glanced in Rick and Daryl's direction. Both men had blood all over them, mostly on their hands. They also each carried a knife, also coated in blood. This meant they'd probably taken care of the men who had stayed downstairs with them, which meant Scott and Jack were very likely the only two left.

The smartest thing Jesus could do now, he supposed, was to stall for time, so that perhaps Daryl and Rick could sneak up on the two armed men before they were noticed. The more Jesus spoke, the more the attention would be on him, and the less likely anyone would hear or sense the other two men cautiously making their way down the hall.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Jesus began to plead his case. "I see no reason why we shouldn't just call it even at this point," he spoke. He knew his words were probably only going to enrage the two men, but he also felt confident that he'd be able to keep them talking. They wouldn't shoot him before speaking their minds.

"You just shot my friend," Jack spoke in a cold, even tone. "You call that even?"

"I'm sorry it had to happen that way, but I was only defending myself," Jesus explained with a calm tone. "If we can all just agree to leave it at this, no one else has to die. I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone."

Scott scoffed, "You're not really in a position to make that kind of request. Can I shoot him now, Jack? I'm done with this."

Jack shook his head, staring at Jesus, but talking to Scott. "Hell, I'm tempted to just let you and Matt and the others go nuts on this guy. Tie him up, let Matt do whatever the hell he wants. Make Rick and what's-his-name watch. They seem to fucking love you so much," Jack added, glaring at Jesus. "We'll let them watch... Tie them up too. Let them see Matt do all sorts of nasty shit to you, and then Scott and I can break your little fingers, one by one... I'd like to break Rick's fuckin' nose while I'm at it... All three of you will be a bloody mess when we're done with you... and then we can give you a taste of your own medicine and throw a dead one in with you, lock the door behind us and go. See how you like it... You don't get to call us even. Not after what you did. You threw one of the dead in here with us, with no warning... That's just cruel. You deserve what's coming."

"I didn't do that," Jesus kept his hands up in front of him as he continued, and as he watched Daryl and Rick taking further slow, calculated steps toward Scott and Jack. Both of the men were very close to Jack and Scott now. If they weren't careful, they were going to get caught.

Suddenly, Rick and Daryl, at the same time, each decided to jump into action. It seemed as though they had some sort of unspoken communication between the two of them. Daryl moved toward Jack and Rick moved toward Scott, each of them disarming one of the men.

"I did," Daryl growled into Jack's ear as his hand darted quickly around the other man's body and grabbed the the gun out of his hand.

At the same time, Rick opted to simply knock the gun away from Scott and proceeded to hold his knife up to the man's neck. "This is over," Rick spoke in a low, serious tone. "Whether you live or die is now up to you."

Jesus remained still as he watched Daryl and Rick. He wondered if they would kill Scott and Jack now that they didn't really have to. At this point, they weren't such a threat, but leaving them alive would certainly be a risk in itself.

It seemed Scott and Jack were able to communicate without speaking to one another too. The men glanced at each other, and then immediately fought back at the same time. Jack threw his elbow back against Daryl and lunged for the gun Rick had knocked away from Scott, while Scott stomped on Rick's foot and spun around, knocking the man's knife out of his hand. Within seconds, Rick and Scott were rolling around on the floor, and Jesus and Jack were diving for the gun on the ground.

Daryl went to Rick's aid, hauling Scott up off his friend long enough for Rick to scramble after the knife he'd dropped. Within an instant, Rick was back on the man, stabbing him multiple times in the chest followed by a quick stab through his temple.

While all this was going on, Jesus continued struggling with Jack until the gun was in both of their hands at once.

"Back off," Daryl growled. Jesus, still attempting to wrestle the gun from Jack, who was on top of him on the ground, looked up to see that Daryl was holding the second gun up against the side of Jack's head.

Jesus kept his grip around Jack's hands tight as he continued in his effort to get the gun fully away from the other man. As he did so, he looked up at Jack's face. The other man looked absolutely pissed as he glanced briefly toward Scott, who was now lying dead on the ground. He looked back down toward Jesus, offering a look which was almost a smile, but not quite.

The next thing Jesus heard was a gun shot. Not half a second later, he heard a second gunshot, followed by Jack falling heavily on top of him.

For a moment, Jesus remained still, lying on the ground, un-moving besides a rapid rising and falling of his chest as adrenaline coursed through him. Jack was no longer tightly gripping the gun. Jesus pulled it out of the man's loosened fingers and held it tightly. Everything had happened so fast, but now time seemed to almost stand still. He wasn't sure who all had been shot. Obviously Jack had, but the second shot was unaccounted for. When he and Jack had been struggling over the gun, the weapon had been all over the place. Jesus was fairly certain the first gunshot he heard was Jack's doing, but he had no idea where the bullet went. The first shot could have hit anyone.

As he tried to bring himself back to the present, Jesus let his head fall back against the floor as he tightly gripped the gun in his hand and closed his eyes. He felt so exhausted, almost too exhausted to even move out from under Jack's body. It wasn't until he started feeling a warm, wet sensation on his shoulder that he decided to move to shove Jack's body off of him. He certainly didn't want to be covered in the dead man's blood.

At that point, time seemed to start to flow normally again. He remembered all the pain he felt from the abuse he'd endured throughout the day, and noticed that Daryl and Rick were pulling Jack up off him at the same time as Jesus was shoving the other man to the side.

"You guys alright?" Jesus breathed out an exhausted breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. He felt adrenaline still coursing through him, but felt somewhat numb and dizzy at the same time.

Neither of the other men answered. Jesus frowned and stared at them, trying to discern for himself if they seemed to be uninjured. As he considered the other two men, he began to become more aware of himself. Whatever blood had spilled onto his shoulder from Jack's body somehow hadn't stopped flowing onto him. The warm, wet, sticky feeling was only spreading.

As Daryl dragged Jesus up into a sitting-position, Jesus frowned and looked down at his shoulder, and at the blood seeping through his shirt. It wasn't Jack's blood at all. It was his own.

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	11. Heroes

_**Hope you're all still enjoying the story. Here's the next chapter:**_

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 **Chapter 11**

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"What-" Jesus gasped in a small, breathless voice as he stared down with wide eyes at the ever-growing dark red spot spreading across his shoulder and running down his chest. The young man seemed confused as he stared down at the wound, moving his hand up and attempting to block the flow of blood with only a feeble movement of his fingers.

"He shot you, man," Daryl informed him. He was certain Jesus already knew this, but considering how out of it the younger man seemed, he felt there would be no harm in mentioning it.

Daryl looked over his shoulder to where Rick had been a moment before, to ask him to go try to find a towel or clean piece of clothing to wrap the injury until they could get Jesus back to Denise. The other man had already gone off to retrieve any supplies that might be helpful without being asked. Rick was no stranger to dealing with these types of situations.

He brought his attention back to Jesus, who was staring up at him with a look in his eyes that just barely conveyed his pain and fear. Daryl could tell the guy was generally stoic and calm, and this was no exception. Even so, the emotions were certainly there, no matter how hard Jesus was attempting to mask them.

"You're gonna be alright," Daryl promised, and he really did mean it. The wound was bleeding, but it seemed not to a degree so that Daryl was especially worried for him. The fact that he'd been shot in the shoulder rather than the chest or abdomen was fortunate as well. It could have been a lot worse. "Let's get your coat out of the way," Daryl told him, pushing the coat's sleeve down the younger man's arm and away from the bullet wound. "And your vest," Daryl added, partially unzipping the vest Jesus wrote beneath his coat and pushing it halfway down Jesus's arm, so that his shoulder was exposed.

By this point, Rick had returned with an arm-full of kitchen towels, the battery-operated lamp from the basement, and a half-full plastic bottle of water. He immediately took his place next to Daryl and pressed one of the towels against the younger man's bleeding wound.

"Can't believe you came back, Jesus," Daryl shook his head slightly. "Let's lean him forward," Daryl instructed Rick. He was looking to find an exit wound.

"You guys came back for me," Jesus offered a small smirk before closing his eyes for a moment and exhaling a shaking breath.

Rick pulled Jesus a few inches away from the wall and pushed his hair out of the way. "There's the exit wound," Rick commented. "Looks like the bullet went straight through. That's good... Hand me one of those," He gestured toward the towels.

Daryl handed him a towel and put his hand over the material covering the entry wound so Rick could concentrate on the other.

"I take it you killed the other guys," Jesus guessed in a still breathless voice.

"Yeah," Daryl answered. "We did."

"Are you guys okay?" Jesus wondered.

"We're fine," Daryl assured the younger man as he considered him with narrowed eyes. Jesus's breaths were still somewhat rapid and his blue-green eyes looked a bit unfocused. "Don't worry 'bout us."

"Paul," Rick spoke, drawing the man's attention toward him as he used his free hand to open the bottle of water he'd brought back and poured a bit of it onto one of the remaining towels. He moved the cloth up to Jesus's face and began to carefully clear away the blood that had dried there. "Do you think you're fit to travel tonight? The sooner we get you medical attention, the better, but it'll be about an hour walk back to the truck."

Jesus frowned as he looked at Rick. "I need that truck," he reminded him, ignoring the initial question and moving his hand up to the towel, taking over cleaning the blood off his lip and chin as he stared intently at Rick.

"We'll work something out," Rick promised, clearly not wanting to argue about this right now. "I don't know what situation you come from, but if you're living with a group who needs supplies, they won't go without on our account. We can work something out later. For now, we just need to get you back to our doctor."

"You don't understand," Jesus actually looked more worried than ever now and even seemed like he was practically ready to stand up and make a run for it. "I need the whole truck. I need all of it."

Daryl almost wanted to roll his eyes at Jesus's one-track mind. He'd been beaten, had a broken arm, and had been shot, and all he cared about was that same damn truck they'd fought over all those hours ago?

"Our group needs all of it too, Paul," Rick's tone was stern. "But we're willing to compromise for your sake. Any group still living could use those supplies. We can't all have all of it."

"No, you don't understand," Jesus insisted. "My community has a deal with another group. We... sort of trade supplies. They expect a certain amount of stuff from us. We need all of it."

"I'm sure the other group will understand," Rick promised.

Jesus offered a nervous laugh, "I don't think so."

Daryl looked over toward Rick. He wondered if this guy was just plain lying. A part of him didn't want to believe that Jesus legitimately needed all of the supplies, but another part of him knew the fact that the truck was just sitting there, unlocked and full of supplies was awfully strange. And why would Jesus lie just for extra supplies he didn't really need? He didn't seem like a selfish person. He seemed desperate. Maybe everything Jesus said was true.

"This other group," Daryl started. "You gotta meet a certain quota with them or what? You guys just trade supplies with each other?"

"Kind of like that," Jesus averted eye contact and then shook his head as though frustrated by the conversation. "Let's just get back to your doctor," he shrugged. "Someone else probably found the truck by now anyway."

"We locked it," Rick informed him.

"If anyone passed through that road, I'm sure they found a way to get it open," Jesus noted. "Wouldn't you guys have if you found a truck like that along the road?"

"Well, I fuckin' hope you're wrong," Daryl frowned.

"I'm gonna go look for a first aid kit so maybe we can wrap this better before we head off," Rick noted before standing and heading back off down the hallway.

Daryl took over holding the second towel in place over Jesus's wound. "You're lucky he didn't shoot you somewhere more serious."

Jesus frowned and glanced toward the house's front door. Daryl narrowed his eyes, trying to read the other man's thought process. It almost seemed like he was contemplating running off again. He was probably nervous about the idea of being taken into a community full of people he didn't know. He knew Daryl and Rick, to an extent, but not anyone else from Alexandria.

"You'll like our doctor," Daryl spoke up, trying to lighten the mood and make Jesus a little more comfortable with the thought of going back with him and Rick. "She's gentle, and good at what she does."

Jesus still looked conflicted, though he offered a small smile. "So you guys _do_ have a camp."

"And so do you," Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"Guess we can't blame each other for lying," Jesus laughed a short chuckle before wincing and looking back down at his shoulder. It was on the opposite side than his broken arm, but he raised the broken limb anyway, moving Daryl's hand a bit out of the way so he could see under the towel.

The blood was still flowing rather freely, so Daryl pressed the towel back down, regardless of the fact that Jesus seemed to want to inspect the wound. "Leave it alone," Daryl ordered, holding the towel firmly in place.

Rick made his way back over, holding a first aid kit in his hand. "We're lucky it doesn't seem like anyone went through this house, which is strange since it's so close to the road."

Daryl held the towels in place as Rick set to work.

"I've got to move your coat and shirt down a bit more," Rick told Jesus before maneuvering the clothing so he could wrap the gauze around the younger man's chest to help keep the towels in place. "It doesn't look like the bullet hit anything important. I expect you'll heal up pretty quickly. Dr. Cloyd can fix your other arm too. She's sort of new to the world of medicine, but you wouldn't know it by watching her work."

Jesus closed his eyes and exhaled tiredly. It seemed the adrenaline was finally wearing off and he was probably feeling all of the various injuries he had been ignoring up until this point.

When Rick was through wrapping the injury, he helped Jesus pull his vest and jacket back up over his arms and he and Daryl helped the man to his feet. "We should put your broken arm in a sling," Rick suggested.

Jesus shook his head. "I need my hands free," He insisted. "It's too dangerous out there to walk around with one hand tied down."

Daryl glanced toward Rick, who stared at Jesus for a moment before nodding. "It's your choice," He agreed. "Though Daryl and I would certainly do what we can to keep you from having to deal with walkers, I can't make any promises that having your arm in a sling wouldn't put you in danger. I can make you a sling if you want, and you can walk between me and Daryl. We'll keep you safe as best as we can."

"No," Jesus shook his head. "I want my arms free."

Rick nodded. "Fair enough."

"Did you want to wait until morning to go?" Daryl wondered, looking toward Jesus. He knew Rick likely didn't mind one way or the other, but he didn't want to push Jesus to travel before he felt capable of doing so. "We can wait if you need a few hours to rest up."

"I'm fine to go now," Jesus insisted.

"If you see any walkers out there, you let us know," Rick advised. "There's no shame in asking for help."

Jesus nodded. "Let's go."

 **xxxxxx**


	12. Desolate

**xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 12**

 **xxxxxx**

The three men were virtually silent as they made their way down the road. Fortunately, the moon was full and illuminated the night to an extent, so they could see where they were going.

Jesus followed behind Rick, who was leading the way. Daryl walked a few paces behind, likely not trusting Jesus to be aware of his own surroundings. Daryl obviously felt the need to keep watch behind them, even though Jesus was perfectly capable of doing that himself. It was also quite likely that Daryl was keeping an eye on Jesus in case he decided to attempt escape again, which Jesus could admit was still a possibility in his mind. He appreciated the help Rick and Daryl had offered, but he still needed that truck.

It was true that Jesus felt pretty much like hell by this point, but he was still paying attention to what was going on around him. Jesus was used to having to keep a sharp eye. He traveled by himself quite often and generally relied on only himself. Even with a bullet hole in his shoulder, a broken arm, and a dull pain throbbing through his entire body, he had his wits about him.

Before leaving the house, Jesus had claimed a nice knife from Scott's body, so he was fully prepared to fight the dead if need be.

"Man, if that truck's gone..." Jesus looked over his shoulder at Daryl, who was shaking his head in preemptive anger and frustration as he spoke. "I had a shitty enough day already."

"It won't be," Rick assured his friend.

"We'll find out soon," Daryl seemed much less hopeful than Rick.

Jesus was not very hopeful either. There were more survivors out in the world than it seemed. They just didn't always cross paths with each other. The chances of no one finding the truck seemed pretty slim. Hell, the Saviors themselves could have found it, and Jesus doubted they'd count it toward Hilltop's quota.

Jesus watched as Rick stopped in his tracks and raised his hand up, indicating for the men behind him to halt as well.

"Couple walkers ahead," he noted.

Jesus gripped his knife in his hand and followed cautiously behind Rick. Usually where there was one walking corpse, there were more. They tended to follow noise, and nothing was noisier in the middle of nowhere than another of the dead clumsily dragging itself over leaves and twigs, running into low branches and snapping them off and making low moaning and growling noises through it all.

So far there were only two up ahead. Daryl quickly made his way past Jesus to dispatch the one Rick hadn't gone toward. It didn't take long for a couple more to stumble out of the foliage from the left. Daryl and Rick immediately went for those two next.

As the other two men continued taking out the small group of emerging from the left, Jesus scanned the area, noticing a faint sound from the right. He gripped his knife tighter and waited, hoping it was only one or a few of the dead. Ordinarily, he could take out four or five with no trouble, but with both of his arms injured, he really didn't feel like fighting too hard if he didn't have to.

For a brief moment, Jesus closed his eyes in anticipation and braced himself for the pain that was sure to be radiating even more strongly down his arm in a few moments.

As soon as a walker stumbled out of the woods and toward the road, Jesus sprung into action, moving toward it and plunging his knife quickly into its skull. He pulled the knife back out and used his foot to shove the corpse backward. It landed with a thud.

Jesus looked back up in time to see another walking body dragging itself out of the trees.

Suppressing a pained wince, Jesus lunged toward the next zombie and took it out in a similar fashion as he did the first. Another one was close behind it. Before Jesus could push the second one, out of the way, the third had made it up to the road and was trying to walk right through the other walker in an attempt to get to Jesus.

With two bodies now being pushed against him, Jesus was knocked to the ground. As he avoided the clawing hands and tried not to look into the white, dead eyes of the corpse presently trying to make a meal of him, he in took a sharp breath and shoved the bodies off of him as hard as he could, unable to suppress a small groan as the movements caused excruciating pain to radiate up and down both of his arms.

He quickly dragged himself up to his knees and put his knife through the walker's skull.

Glancing back toward the woods, he was happy to find no more walkers were emerging from the right. He looked to the left in time to see Rick pulling his knife out of the skull of a fallen corpse as Daryl put down the last of the group.

Jesus un-clenched his hand and breathed a heavy sigh as he dragged himself back up to his feet.

"You alright?" Rick asked, looking in his direction.

"Yeah," Jesus nodded as he continued working on catching his breath.

"You okay, Daryl?" Rick wondered.

Daryl nodded as he put his knife back in his belt and continued walking.

Rick waited for Jesus to catch up before the two followed Daryl down the road. Whether the older man was keeping close to Jesus to make sure he kept up or to make sure he didn't try anything remained unclear.

Jesus flinched very slightly when Rick reached over toward his shoulder. The older man noticed this and paused, looking Jesus in the eyes and silently asking for permission to check his injury. The younger man nodded.

Rick pulled back Jesus's coat and vest enough to see his shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure your run in with the walkers didn't shift the bandages at all," Rick noted before replacing the vest and coat and putting his hand lightly on Jesus's back. "You still feeling okay?"

Jesus nodded. He felt awful, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"You let me know if you need to stop for a minute," Rick advised.

Jesus nodded as they continued walking. He'd love to stop for a minute. Or for a few hours for that matter. He was exhausted and in a lot of pain, but he knew he needed to keep moving. As soon as he rested, it would make getting back up and moving on all the more difficult. So he chose to push through the pain, ignore it as best as he could and keep moving.

"We can share the the supplies in the truck," Rick offered when Jesus remained silent. "It's only fair. I don't want your people going hungry."

Jesus frowned. What was going on with his town, Hilltop, was so much more complicated than Rick could see. In a way, Jesus felt embarrassed for his community. They were allowing themselves to basically be tormented by bullies, with no payoff for their community whatsoever. He didn't want to explain it to Rick and Daryl. It was sort of the town's dark, shameful secret. Jesus, being quite capable in defending himself and generally hesitant to allow anyone to cheat or control him, didn't like to admit that half of all the work he did gathering supplies wasn't for his community at all, but rather for a violent group of brutes who didn't deserve the goods at all.

"I mean it," Rick continued. "We'll work something out so both of our groups win."

Glancing over toward Rick, Jesus wondered if he could live with himself if he made a break for it once they reached the truck (assuming it was still there.) Though his community did desperately need the supplies, Rick clearly had a group depending on him too. Maybe the supplies could save Jesus's friends from further violence inflicted upon them... for a while... But Rick's people needed the supplies too.

Jesus felt nervous when they reached the stretch of road they had been on before, where Rick and Daryl had originally left him once they reclaimed the truck. It would only be a short walk until they made it to the road where he'd seen Daryl and Rick turn off onto earlier today. That was where they seemed to have left the truck full of supplies. Whether it was still there or not, it posed a problem for Jesus.

If it was gone, Hilltop was was going to have a large job ahead of them regathering the supplies. If it wasn't gone, Jesus would still have to find a way to reclaim it. If he wanted the full truckload of supplies, he'd either have to take it forcefully, or somehow convince Daryl and Rick to let him take the whole thing. He'd taken the keys out of Rick's pocket earlier when the man was bandaging his shoulder, so he was prepared to sprint ahead and jump into the truck before they could catch him, but he wasn't as fast as usual, with all of his injuries, and he didn't feel great about leaving Rick and Daryl out on the open road with no vehicle in the middle of the night.

Even as they moved down the road, Jesus wasn't sure if he was going to try to steal the truck back or not. He hadn't decided yet. Sharing the supplies was the right thing to do, but it could cost his community greatly. If he took all the supplies, however, he could easily be dooming Rick's group to starvation. He couldn't decide just yet what the best course of action would be. Nevertheless, he needed to be ready to act on whichever choice he made.

As they neared the road where Rick and Daryl had left the truck, Jesus subtly patted his pocket to double-check that the keys were still there. He'd be ready to make a run for it once he got close enough, if it seemed like a viable and moral option. As long as Daryl and Rick didn't expect him to sprint toward the truck, he'd likely make it to the truck before they did.

All three quickened their pace when the turn-off was in sight. When Jesus could see down the road, his hopes were immediately dashed. There was no sign of the truck anywhere. He felt his shoulders slump as he stopped walking and simply stood in the road, staring at where the truck should have been.

"Dammit!" Daryl growled, but kept walking as though expecting to somehow find the truck further down the road. It wasn't there though. Someone had obviously found it, broken into it, and hot-wired it. It was long gone, and they weren't getting it back.

"It's alright," Rick was obviously the calm one in this duo. "We'll live."

Jesus swallowed a lump in his throat. Rick's reaction proved he didn't need the supplies as much as Jesus's group did.

"How far away is your camp?" Jesus frowned, wondering how much longer his exhausted legs could keep going. If Rick's camp was too far, he may just have to offer to lead them back to his home instead, though he'd rather see Rick's group first, to get a good read on them before exposing his community to them.

"Pretty far still," Rick glanced over toward him. "But we left a car further down the road. We'll still make it back relatively soon. Assuming no one took my keys, of course," Rick added, raising his eyebrows and looking in Jesus's direction.

Jesus shook his head and shrugged. He didn't steal the car keys. He had no use for them. Rick very likely was aware that he had taken the truck's keys, however, or he wouldn't have made that comment. Rick was picking up on Jesus's tricks too fast. He'd have to be more careful around these two...

 **xxxxxx**


	13. Road to Alexandria

_**The final chapter is finally here. Once again, I'd like to apologize for making you wait so long between chapters on several different occasions. With my life becoming hectic and my disappointment in season 6 of The Walking Dead, it became very difficult for me to keep this story updated in a timely fashion. Hopefully giving you the final five chapters all at once makes up for that a little. (If you've noticed this story has been updated and you've gone straight to the last chapter, note that I just uploaded five all at once. Chapter 9 is the first new one I uploaded today.)**_

 _ **Once again, so sorry for all the waiting. Here's the conclusion. I hope you like it:**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 13**

 **xxxxxx**

"I'm driving," Daryl demanded as soon as they reached the car. "And we're not playing any music. At all."

Rick looked in the other man's direction and smiled. "Fine by me," He tossed Daryl the keys and looked toward Jesus. "I'll ride in back with you," he offered before the younger man could request otherwise. By now, it seemed Jesus wasn't going to try anything more. He seemed to be going along with them willingly at this point and no longer seemed to be concealing any ulterior agenda. Even so, Rick knew better than to trust anyone he'd known for less than a day. He also wanted to keep an eye on the younger man's physical condition, as Paul seemed exhausted and didn't look like he felt well at all.

He'd been keeping an eye on their new acquaintance ever since they left the house. The young man had seemed a bit out of it through the entire trek, and had only seemed to get worse the longer they walked. Of course, that was to be expected after what he'd been through, but Rick still wanted to be aware of any change in the man's condition, if for no other reason than to inform Denise once they got back to Alexandria. The doctor would need to know as much as possible in order to properly treat Jesus's injuries.

Paul did not argue with Rick's suggestion. He carefully climbed into the back of the car and leaned back against the seat as though it was the first time in days that he'd felt even a hint of relaxation.

Rick took his place in the back next to him as Daryl seated himself up front and started the car.

Daryl breathed out a sigh as soon as the car started, "I half-expected the damn thing not to start. After the fuckin' day we've had, it wouldn't of surprised me."

Rick offered a tired chuckle, "Me either."

"It's a long ride back," Daryl spoke. "Let's hope it won't be eventful."

Rick nodded and looked over toward Jesus, whose eyes were closed as he leaned back against the seat's head rest. "You doin' okay, Paul?" he asked.

The younger man nodded slightly, but didn't speak. He likely felt awful.

Rick scooted over toward Paul. "I'm gonna have a look at your shoulder," he said. Paul didn't protest or even make any indication that he'd heard the other man. "Is that okay?" Rick asked, not wanting to start pulling at the other man's clothes and potentially upsetting the injury without Paul being made aware first.

"Mm hm," Jesus answered with a nearly silent mumble.

Rick frowned and pulled back the younger man's jacket and vest, moving the towel away a bit so he could see the injury. "Bleeding's slowed down," he noted, though the towel was pretty much soaked with blood. He replaced the towel and adjusted the gauze so that it was still firmly held in place. "Could you lean forward a bit?" He requested.

Jesus complied, leaning forward slightly. Rick put his hand carefully on Jesus's chest and noted that the other man was leaning against it pretty heavily. He was clearly exhausted and ready to get some much-needed rest. It seemed like he was half asleep already.

Rick pulled the towel away from Paul's skin and examined the exit wound. The blood was no longer gushing from that wound either, fortunately. He replaced the towel and pushed Jesus gently back against the seat again.

"We still gotta go look for supplies later this week," Daryl noted from up front. "To make up for this mess. We'll drive in the other direction next time."

"Yeah," Rick agreed. Their run had been pretty unsuccessful this time, so they'd certainly need to go again to make up for it.

"Not before I sleep for sixteen hours straight once we get back though," Daryl grumbled.

"If you get tired up there, let me know and I'll take over," Rick offered. The drive back to Alexandria would take several hours, and naturally everyone in the car was exhausted by this point. It was nearing sunrise and none of them had slept, aside for Jesus, who only managed to get any rest due to being knocked unconscious. Rick wasn't sure if that could really count as sleep, and he was fairly sure a lot of Jesus's lying around as though passed out had been an act anyway. The fact that the younger man had lost so much blood and had been beaten quite harshly kind of canceled out the fact that he may have gotten a few hours of blissful unconsciousness too.

"Denise is gonna be annoyed with me," Daryl guessed. "Bringin' her back this guy instead of any of the supplies she asked for."

"She likes helping people," Rick disagreed. "She won't mind. And she'll understand about the supplies. We can always go out again. Some days are lucky; some aren't. She understands that."

"She told me to look for soda," Daryl remembered. "She called it 'pop.' Some Ohio slang, I guess. Said Tara liked it and wanted it to be surprise for her."

"Well, soda's not exactly uncommon," Rick shrugged. "We'll find more." He looked over toward Paul who was slumped over in the seat across from him. The younger man wasn't contributing to the conversation and seemed to have perhaps fallen asleep.

"Yeah," Daryl sighed and drove onward.

Rick frowned as he observed Jesus. He was very still and wore a subtle frown on his face. "You awake," Rick spoke in a low voice, touching the man's chest lightly.

When Jesus didn't respond, Rick reached up carefully toward the man's throat, to check his pulse. He was no medical professional, of course, but was relieved to find that the younger man's pulse seemed strong enough.

"He doin' okay?" Daryl wondered.

Rick looked up in time to see Daryl glancing at him through the rear-view mirror. "I think he's fine," Rick assured the other man. "Just exhausted. Nothing Dr. Cloyd can't handle."

"I really meant it when I said he wasn't our problem," Daryl noted, likely sensing that he was beginning to appear as though he cared about this man's well-being. "Whether he deserved what those guys were dishing out or not, we risked our lives for him. There's no doubt about that. We could have both died, trying to save a stranger who stole from us."

"It was the right thing to do, Daryl," Rick reminded him. "And I know you feel that way too. Everybody deserves a chance."

"You didn't always think like that," Daryl glanced at the mirror again. "And it kept our group safe."

"Yeah," Rick hesitated. "And it got other people killed. The world's gonna be a pretty dark place if no one will risk helping anyone else. Back when all this started, when I was on my own, backed into a corner, Glenn took a chance on me. He risked his life to save mine. Hershel let us into his home, let us stay even when he wanted us out. The people of Alexandria welcomed us all in, and I'll be honest," Rick offered a slight laugh. "We did not look great. I'm not sure if I would have been as trusting as they were considering how we all were back then. I owe it to world to pay that same respect to others, and to give people a chance."

"We gave Terminus a chance," Daryl recalled.

"I'm starting to feel like it might just be worth the risk to help who we can," Rick continued. "Not everyone is like they were. We trusted Michonne, Tyreese, Sasha... Abraham, Rosita and Eugene... Gabriel... Noah... Those were all a risk too, but we took a chance. We risked it, gave them a chance, even a second chance, and I'm glad we did. It's easy to turn people away, to play it safe and only watch out for yourself. It even sometimes feels like it comes natural, but I don't want to be that person, and I don't want you to be that person. We're both better than that."

"I ain't," Daryl scoffed.

"Yes you are," Rick disagreed. "You wouldn't have left him back there. Not when you saw those guys hurting him."

Daryl shrugged but didn't deny Rick's words.

"There's more to his story than the first impression he showed us," Rick reasoned. "He comes from a larger group, and he seems harmless enough. If we can work something out between our two groups, we'll be twice as strong."

"Or twice as screwed," Daryl countered. "We don't know him, and we sure as hell don't know his group."

"He had more than a few chances to kill us," Rick spoke in Jesus's defense. "He stole your gun without you even noticing, and he stole the truck's keys from me without me noticing," Rick reached over and felt the pocket's on Jesus's vest, pulling the truck's key out and tossing it on the front passenger seat. "Twice," he added. "He could have disarmed us and shot us before either of us ever knew what was happening."

Daryl shrugged again. "Guess we're stuck with him now."

Rick smiled and glanced over toward Jesus again. He was eager to get the man back to Alexandria and to have Denise patch him up. Once he was feeling well, they could talk to him, learn more about his community, and potentially expand the ever-growing new world. The small, bleak world they knew was becoming larger and more promising every day. For the first time in a while, Rick actually felt hopeful.

 _ **xxxxxx**_

 _ **THE END**_

 _ **Of course, you know what happens next - or at least, you will if you've kept up with watching the show. I've sort of purposefully led this story so that it kind of ends in the same place episode 6x10 ends. So this story pretty much fits in continuity-wise with the rest of the show if you just replace half of episode 6x10 with it. The only big change is that Rick and Daryl aren't as skeptical of Jesus by the end of my version.**_

 _ **I just loved the scenes with Rick, Daryl, and Jesus so much in Jesus's first episode, so I couldn't resist writing a whole story just full of them, only with a bit more drama, of course. Once again, I wrote this whole story after watching episode 6x10. I proof-read, edit, and post my chapters a lot slower than I write, so I'm sure the whole season will be over and horrible, heartbreaking things will have happened on the show already by the time I publish this final chapter. Just for reference, I'm finishing up writing this on February 27th, 2016. So if anything too terribly contradictory to this story happens on the show after 6x10, it's not my obligation to have referenced it in this story.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading. :)**_


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